Good Neighbors
by PinkFreud
Summary: Darcy moves to New York after getting a job with SHIELD and finds herself drawn to her mysterious and attractive new neighbor. The feeling seems to be mutual, but what happens after she figures out who he really is?
1. Chapter 1

''Well, that's it,'' Darcy thought with a sigh as she looked around her brand new apartment. The floor was completely covered in boxes. It would probably take her a year to unpack. Jane and Thor had been nice enough to help her move all of the really heavy things like her bed, couch, and bookshelves.

She'd recently moved to New York after being hired by SHIELD, thanks to Jane's recommendation. The job basically consisted of data entry but it was still a job and Darcy couldn't turn it down. Besides, this way she got to see Jane and Thor often, which made her feel better. It was nice to know people in a big, unfamiliar place. Darcy was also actually making quite a bit more money than she had initially anticipated; her new apartment would ordinarily be out of her price range.

''I think I'll start unpacking tomorrow,'' she said aloud, and her voice echoed, bouncing off the walls and high ceilings. This was much more space than Darcy was used to having, and it made her feel just the tiniest bit lonely. She went into the kitchen and pulled out the bottle of white wine that had been chilling in the fridge, a moving day present from Jane. Darcy rummaged through one of the boxes that was sitting on the counter until she removed a wine glass and a bottle opener. Pulling away the protective newspaper wrapping from the glass, she then popped the cork out of the wine and poured some for herself. The sun was beginning to set, and she realized how tired she was. Moving was completely exhausting, even if you had help. Even if you had a _god_ to help you.

All of her utilities were turned on, so she didn't have to worry about being in the dark on her first night. Probably the most striking feature of the new apartment was the large window in the living room. It was nearly as large and wide as the wall, and would let in a tremendous amount of light. Looking out, to the left she had a fairly nice but narrow view of the city, the majority of the view was into the apartment across the alley, which had an almost identical window, and no curtains. Darcy then realized with a great dismay that she didn't own curtains either. Whoever lived in that apartment would be able to look directly into hers, and vice versa. Well, that was something to take care of tomorrow, she thought, taking a long sip of wine. There didn't appear to be anyone at home over there at the moment, Darcy noted, the room that she could see through the window was dim and seemed to be sparsely furnished, but she also noticed that there were some boxes stacked by the wall. Perhaps whoever lived over there had moved in recently, too.

Setting down her wine glass, Darcy flipped on the TV for some background noise and then went into the bathroom to start the shower. While she waited for the water to warm up, she walked back into the living room, shedding her clothes as she went. Darcy was so focused on retrieving her wine and taking another sip that she failed to notice that a light had come on in the window across the way. She turned and headed back into the little hallway leading to the bathroom, oblivious to the fact that someone was indeed home in the other apartment, and was watching her.

Back in her old shoebox of an apartment, there were very few windows, and besides, she'd had blinds so Darcy was actually rather accustomed to walking around naked. She liked the feeling of cooler air on her bare skin, especially after a hot shower. So without thinking about it, after Darcy got out of the shower this time, she padded out into the living room in her bare feet, completely free of clothing, her long wet hair hanging loose around her shoulders in sopping strands. She turned then and noticed that her across-the-alley neighbor was home. Staring right at her.

They locked eyes for a moment that literally seemed to last hours. Darcy's brain struggled in that moment to process all of the sensory input that was crashing in, besides the brief adrenaline jolt of fear, she collected details. He was very beautiful. Tall and lean, he had long legs that seemed to stretch for miles. He wore a pair of black pants which clung to him rather sinfully, and no shirt. His face was pale and angular, all sharp planes. Longish black hair was pushed back from his face, and Darcy could see that he had eyes that were a startlingly bright shade of blue-green. She felt briefly disoriented, dizzy almost, then quickly snapped out of her trancelike state and wrapped her arms around herself, quickly darting away from the window and out of his line of vision.

Face burning and skin tingling, Darcy haphazardly threw on a t-shirt and sweatpants, then flung herself onto her bed. Part of her was rather mortified that a stranger had seen her completely naked but another part was...strangely turned on by their brief exchange. Perhaps deep down she had some exhibitionist tendencies which had lain dormant, because she was oddly thrilled by the fact that he had _seen_ her, by the memory of his eyes burning into her. It had been a total accident, naturally, and surely not something she'd care to experience again. At least, that's what she told herself.

* * *

The next evening when Darcy returned home from work, she shed her coat and hat, then went into the kitchen, needing some wine in the worst way. Her day had been very long. She'd spent hours and hours doing data entry, staring at spreadsheets until all she saw when she closed her eyes were grids and lines, with the occasional pie chart thrown in. It wasn't _awful_, though. At least she worked for SHIELD. Sure, she was basically just a secretary, naturally not privy to any information that was even _interesting_, let alone top secret. She'd met Tony Stark. Well, _met _was probably overstating it a bit; he had briefly nodded at her in greeting as he passed in the hallway one morning. And once she'd ridden in an elevator with Steve Rogers, but that was it. In the great scheme of things, Darcy Lewis didn't rank too high. But at least she was there. They'd let her in the door. That was something.

She sighed and settled onto the couch with her wine. Darcy couldn't help but notice that her, ahem, _neighbor_, was not home yet. His apartment was dark and quiet. After watching some TV, she changed into her sweats again and crawled back onto the couch with a book. At exactly 7:00, not that she'd been _waiting_, or anything, she saw a light switch on across the alley. Darcy couldn't quite rationalize the weird little flutter that went through her body as he came into view. He was well-dressed in an attractive business suit, a long green silk scarf wrapped around his neck. She ducked down a little, peeking over the top of the couch, feeling slightly ridiculous as she watched him remove the scarf and suit jacket, then his tie. He wore a slightly serious expression on his face, not quite a scowl but almost. He seemed to be thinking a little too hard about something he didn't like.

Then his expression changed slowly, almost as if he had heard something and was listening closely. A half-smile crept briefly across his features, and he started working at unbuttoning the top buttons on his shirt. Darcy couldn't help herself, she sat up a little straighter to get an even better view, fairly certain that he had no idea that she was there. Fascinated for some reason by the tendons in his neck, she felt like a moron as her skin heated and she blinked rapidly, mentally berating herself for being such a voyeuristic weirdo. Then the rest of the shirt came off, and he folded it neatly and set it down with his other things, Darcy's brain once again going into overload as she got an almost perfect glimpse at his bare chest. He walked closer, moving almost directly in front of the window. At first it appeared that maybe he just wanted to look out, see the obstructed skyline view, or—no, maybe he wanted to look _in._ Though his movements were nonchalant, there was a certain amount of deliberateness to them, and Darcy wondered if he somehow knew that she was there. The slight wicked smile that tilted up the corners of his mouth gave him away, and she gasped a little as he looked directly at her, as if to say ''_I know you're there.''_

She slowly moved and got up off the couch, lazily pretending that maybe she'd just woken up from a nap. For whatever reason, she decided that she was going to play whatever weird game this was, if for no other reason than she was bored and lonely and this could be damned interesting. Darcy didn't look directly at him, didn't give him any indication that she knew she'd been caught. Turning sideways so that she faced the wall, trying to focus on the Klimt print that she'd lazily tacked there for a bit of color as she slowly pulled her t-shirt up over her head. She'd already taken off her bra earlier so there was nothing to the imagination. Feeling like she might faint from nervous adrenaline, Darcy turned her head ever so slightly, just for a second long enough to briefly make eye contact, long enough to catch a glimpse of the almost feral smile on his face. Then that was enough for tonight, and with as much self-control as she could summon, she turned and walked out of the room. _It's on_, she thought to herself dizzily, wondering exactly what she was getting herself into, too intrigued to not find out just how far they would push this.


	2. Chapter 2

Work was boring her absolutely to tears, and there seemed to be no end to it. Jane kept bringing her more and more ridiculous amounts of data, and Darcy was ready to scream. And it wasn't even noon yet! Pushing back her chair, she rubbed her tired eyes and got to her feet. She padded down the hall in search of coffee, relishing the chance to stretch her legs and momentarily break the monotony of the day. As she reached for a cup, she overheard two familiar voices in the corridor. ''Have you noticed,'' Steve Rogers was saying, and without even turning around Darcy could sense his facial expression, stoic and serious, ''that he's been...a little different today? Almost...helpful. And he actually _smiled_, I think.'' The Captain's tone was both disbelieving and perhaps mildly horrified.

She heard Tony Stark chuckle. ''Maybe he got laid,'' the billionaire lazily suggested.

Darcy could practically _hear_ Captain America shudder. ''I'd rather not think about that,'' he replied with disgust, then added, ''And I don't think so. What woman would possibly...'' he trailed off, at a loss.

''Well, there's all kinds of women out there, Cap,'' Stark sounded amused. ''A lot has changed since you've been thawed. Even serial killers get groupies.''

Darcy quietly stirred some powdered creamer into her coffee and continued to eavesdrop, wondering who they were talking about. He sounded pretty awful, whoever he was.

The Captain was quiet for a moment. ''Well, regardless, I don't like or trust this behavior from him. He's up to something.''

Stark snorted dismissively. ''There's nothing he can do to us, and he knows it. That's part of the deal. He works for us now. He is, for all intents and purposes, our _bitch_. He agreed to the terms, and knows full well what happens if he violates them. Let's just be grateful that he's acting a little more pleasant today.''

Then the conversation grew more muffled and she heard their footsteps moving away and further down the hall, out of earshot. Darcy grabbed her coffee and headed back down the hall to her desk. Jane darted over as soon as she returned, looking tired. ''There you are. Hey, do you have those charts from yesterday?'' She shifted back and forth nervously.

''Yeah, give me a sec and I'll get them,'' Darcy answered slowly, taking in her friend's jittery demeanor. ''How many cups of coffee have you had this morning?''

''Not enough,'' Jane moaned, gazing longingly at the steaming cup in Darcy's hand. ''I'm just frazzled. I have this meeting in less than an hour with all the bigwigs; you know, Captain America, Stark, Clint, that scary woman with the red hair...even Nick Fury.'' Jane clutched her chest in terror. ''I'm supposed to present some of my findings...and I think I might have a heart attack before I even get one word out of my mouth.''

Darcy rolled her eyes. ''Jane. Please. This should not freak you out at all. Thor will be there. And besides, you've gone toe to toe with SHIELD before. I mean, when that creepy little dude in the suit came to take all your equipment back in New Mexico, you _totally_ gave him the business.''

Jane's face fell, and she suddenly looked pained.

''Wait, whoa, what did I say? What's wrong?'' Darcy was startled by the grimness of the expression on the other woman's face.

''Well, you didn't know, I mean...you didn't have any reason to know, so...but...that man, Agent Coulson, the one who took our equipment that day...well...he's dead. He was killed during the...um, _incident_ last year.''

Oh, geez. Now she really felt awful. Darcy wanted to kick herself for being insensitive, but then she reminded herself, Jane was right about her not having any reason to know. She barely knew more than the general public about the details of the attack that had maimed the city so many months before. This place was all about lock and key secrets, information control, all that. SHIELD made the CIA look like the local library. And she was, Darcy reminded herself, the low man on the totem pole. She wasn't allowed to know anything important.

''Well...um...regardless. You'll do fine. Here,'' Darcy thrust her cup of coffee into Jane's hands. ''Liquid courage. Your kind, not mine. Break a leg.'' The scientist's eyes lit up as she grasped the offering, taking a quick sip and then finally cracking a small smile. ''Thanks, Darcy.''

Quickly collecting the folder full of charts that was sitting on her desk with a Post-It note saying ''Jane's Very Important Crap'' and handed it to her her friend. ''You're welcome. Here. Charts. Get going.''

Jane nodded vigorously, grabbed the folder, took another sip of coffee then darted out of the room. Darcy sighed, then sank wearily into her chair. Not wanting to think about the hours of data entry that were ahead of her, she let her mind wander. And it wandered to smutty daydreams about her mysterious hottie of a neighbor. God, his _eyes. _That positively wicked little smile that sometimes played at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't help but hope they would continue the game that they'd inadvertently seemed to have begun playing. Hmmmm, but what should be her next move? Her face grew warm and she got tingles in some very naughty places just thinking about the possibilities. She'd never done anything like this before, and it was, she had to admit, _tremendously_ exciting. Deciding to give data entry a break for just a moment, and damning office decorum, Darcy opened a web browser and Googled 'sexy lingerie' for research purposes. She was going shopping later, and needed to have at least a rough idea about what she wanted to get.

Darcy had become so engrossed in her ''research'' that she jumped a mile when a deadly soft female voice right by her ear said ''That would be a great color on you.'' Whipping her head around, she nearly had a stroke when she saw none other than the Black Widow herself positioned less than an inch away, an amused look on her full lips.

''Oh my God!'' Quickly, Darcy clicked off of the site and pulled her spreadsheet back up. ''I was just...um...on my break. But now I'm not. Now I'm getting back to work. Entering data. And having a damn good time doing it!'' She pounded furiously at the keyboard for emphasis. The amusement never leaving her face, Natasha looked at her for a long moment, then said slowly, ''If he's worth it, you're going to need to do better. Here.'' Seemingly out of nowhere, she materialized a small business card and handed it to Darcy. ''This is the shop where I get most everything I need for just such an occasion. Very exclusive. The owner is an old friend of mine. If you want, I can call ahead and tell her you'll be coming in.''

Darcy's hand was practically shaking as she accepted the card. ''Yes. I mean, thank you!'' she stammered. ''I'd...I'd really appreciate that. But—''

''No buts.'' The Black Widow held up a hand. ''You seem like...a very nice young lady. I've seen your spreadsheets. You do good work,'' she added, without a trace of irony or sarcasm. ''Now, I've got to run, I have a meeting. But yes, definitely that color.''

Darcy turned back to her computer screen for half a second, recalling the picture she'd been looking at, flimsy lace and silk in bright green. By the time she turned back around, Natasha was gone, and the card was still in her sweaty palm. ''I guess I'm going shopping later,'' she muttered.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and though Darcy wanted to stick around to ask Jane how the meeting had gone, she figured that she could text her later, and bolted out the front doors as quickly as possible. She'd Google-mapped the address on the business card, luckily it wasn't too far and so she decided to walk. It was a small shop, it seemed, hidden unless you were looking for it. It was situated in a kind of small street corner nook. There didn't seem to be any signs on the door at all, just a buzzer. It was all very hidden and mysterious, it reminded her a little of Harry Potter. Like maybe it was the sort of place that Hermione Granger went to buy her lingerie, Darcy thought, then laughed hysterically, in a delirium of nervous excitement.

She rang the buzzer, and a few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing an older, statuesque blonde woman dressed in tight, bright clothing who demanded, ''Come in!'' and practically dragged her into the store.

After what seemed like hours, Darcy had tried on many beautiful, ridiculously expensive pieces of lingerie, and was attempting to make a selection, but it was rather difficult. Other than the few lacy thongs from Victoria's Secret that she'd worn in college, she had no experience with buying sexy underwear, typically favoring comfort over style. However, the woman who owned the store seemed to know exactly what she was doing and voiced her opinion loudly and often. ''No, no,'' she would shout when Darcy pulled something off the rack that she didn't approve of. ''Silly girl!'' the shopkeeper yelled, at one point literally grabbing Darcy's boobs and hollering in a thick Eastern European accent, ''Why you hide these? Women pay good money for a chest like this, you show them off!'' Darcy wasn't sure whether to be grateful or terrified. As it turned out though, she was grateful, because after she had made her final decision and stood at the counter with her eyes squeezed shut and her Visa in hand, the shopkeeper waved the credit card away and cheerfully handed her a bag containing her purchase, saying ''here you go!'' in a sing-song voice.

''Um'' Darcy said hesitantly. ''I didn't pay you yet. How much is it?''

The huge blonde shopkeeper laughed so loudly that Darcy wondered if she wasn't maybe a little insane. ''Oh, she told me you were funny!'' she chortled. After taking a moment to calm herself, the woman added, after noticing Darcy's confused expression, ''My friend is paying for whatever you buy today. It's a deal that we have. She took care of some messy business for me, and I help her with whatever she needs. She told me to take care of you. So here. You can go now.''

Mouth agape, Darcy could do little more than nod, clutch the bag and dart out the door, calling ''thank you!'' behind her and wondering what the hell she had done to earn the Black Widow's generosity, but then concluding that she'd rather not know. The Avengers lived in a world that was so far removed from anything resembling normalcy that Darcy concluded that she'd rather not understand their logic. But she definitely owed Natasha, because the purchase in her bag was very, very costly, very lacy and silky. And green.


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy practically crashed through the front door of her apartment at 6:45 after sprinting home from the lingerie shop. Heart beating wildly, she ran into the bedroom and haphazardly dragged off her work clothes. Grabbing the bag from the store, she slowly and almost reverently removed her purchase and slid it on.

Staring into the mirror, she scarcely recognized the woman staring back at her: a bombshell with long chocolate brown hair, big eyes and a sultry pout. Wearing a sheer, lacy swatch of barely-there green fabric that strained and tugged at all the right places. Staring at the stranger in the mirror for a fraction of a second longer, Darcy pulled a robe on as she walked back out into the living room, hoping that soon a light would turn on across the way.

She didn't have to wait long. Surreptitiously, she lay back on the couch and peeked over the top, giving her a clear view. He looked tired and drained, a little paler and more troubled than usual as he entered the front door of his apartment. And then, fluidly and seamlessly, his expression changed , as though he sensed a palpable charge in the air. And the pallor and fatigue slid off of his face, replaced instantly by a hungry half-grin and a spark about his eyes.

Darcy's head thudded with an almost painful cadence. Her stomach fluttered madly as a familiar adrenaline flooded her veins. She slowly eased up off of the couch and onto her feet, standing now directly in his line of vision, unmistakeable. _Game on_.

He didn't take his eyes off of her as he removed his scarf, jacket, and tie. The process was slow and deliberate, and he seemed to taunt her with his gaze as he worked. His shirt came off next, and Darcy practically salivated as pale bare skin was revealed inch by inch. Poised, shirtless, he waited.

_My turn, _she realized, his gaze burning into her with wicked curiosity and intent. The robe slid off of her shoulders and fell to the floor, pooling around her feet like a cloud. With a look he urged her on, daring her to make a move. Emboldened, she did so, reaching a hand up, sliding beneath the lacy fabric and cupping her breast, feeling the weight of it in her hand, rolling her nipple between her fingers, pinching it and sending a jolt coursing through her body. He didn't move at first, but his eyes seemed to burn brighter than before, his gaze absolutely feral and wanting. He looked...dangerous, but in a delicious sort of way. Temptation incarnate. The bad boy.

It occurred to Darcy suddenly that she was assigning characteristics to a man that she didn't even know, a man who she was baring both her body, and also absurdly enough, her _soul_ to in this strange game, but she also knew that she was far too turned on to even think about stopping.

Overcome with lust, Darcy grabbed one of the living room chairs and turned it around so that it faced the window. Her movements were wild and frantic. She raised her eyes occasionally, and he met her gaze each time, encouragingly. Settling herself down into the soft cushions of the chair, Darcy situated herself so that he had a perfect view. Deliberately, she locked her eyes to his. Spreading her legs apart as easily as opening curtains, she boldly reached a hand down to stroke herself through the thin layer of silk and lace, feeling wetness begin to pool and a small fiery knot begin to coil deep within her. And it all didn't seem perverse or strange, rather it seemed more intimate than anything she'd ever before experienced.

Her hand paused for a moment; the look on his face stilled her. There was something different there, gone was the wicked half-grin and hungry gleam in his eyes. He looked...well, _struck_ was probably the best word for it. For a moment, Darcy was terrified that she'd pushed something unspoken way too far and an icy-white fear plunged itself into her heart. Yet, almost as quickly as this fear had come it washed away, in an inexplicable, warm surge of calm.

One word seemed to slice through her mind, vividly, as though she had heard it spoken aloud. _Wait. _The sudden almost-voice in her head was deep, masculine. Cool and unfamiliar. It slid across her skin.

Sitting up abruptly, Darcy watched as he turned, seemingly listening for something. Then he headed over to the door, opening it. _Damn_! She thought, then quickly ducked out of view, crouching down closer to the floor by the windowsill so that she could peek up over the ledge. Her neighbor appeared to have a visitor. Darcy couldn't make out who it was, but from the size of the shadow in the hall she guessed it was a man. Mr. Mysterious didn't seem too happy about the visit, she could tell by the way his posture changed, becoming tenser and more stooped. His hands gestured in the air, as he seemed to be talking to his guest about something. This went on for a moment, and then her neighbor shut the door. He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard, dragged a hand through his long black hair. Then he collected himself, standing straighter, his eyes turning once again towards the window, back to her.

With just a glance, she understood, with great disappointment, that the evening was probably not going to continue on the way it had been going. He was being called away, at least for the night. Business? Yes. Darcy wasn't at all sure how she knew this all so exactly, but she did. She stood, feeling much less sexy than she had just a short time before. He looked tired again, she could see it in his face. She gave him a light shrug, her hand waved a goodbye.

_See you later,_ she mouthed, then grinned.

He moved closer and put his hand against the glass. For a second they were in their own little world again. Outside, it had started snowing. He traced his long elegant fingers along the window, along her reflection, over her, and Darcy shivered a little because she swore that she could almost feel him actually touching her. It was all absurdly intimate, full of a kind of pained longing she couldn't describe. Then, resignedly, he turned away, walking out of her line of vision.

Darcy's eyes suddenly stung and she realized that she was absurdly close to crying. She was getting a little chilly now, too, standing by the window in flimsy lingerie. The snow began to fall harder, almost completely obscuring her view across. She bent down and picked up her robe off of the floor and wrapped it around herself. ''This sucks!'' she said aloud, to noone. There would be another opportunity, hopefully, but Darcy wondered if she'd manage to be quite so courageous then. Wiping a stray tear off of her face with disdain, she reminded herself that this was just a game, a game she was playing with a man she didn't know, and she had no right be getting emotional about it in any way. It was just a sexy, anonymous thing. So how could she explain the cutting disappointment and small pangs of loneliness she was feeling?

* * *

**The Next Day**

Captain America didn't trust Loki in the least. In fact, the Asgardian made his skin crawl. He was a lying, criminally insane, homicidal villain and had no business working anywhere near SHIELD or the Avengers. However, Rogers didn't get to make the final call on that one. Thankfully, Nick Fury didn't trust him either, and so he periodically mandated that Loki's office be searched, just as a precaution. Though most of his more dangerous abilities had been stripped from him, he was still extremely powerful and intelligent, and not someone to be underestimated.

The Captain wasn't ever really sure what he should be looking for, it wasn't as though Loki would actually be stupid enough to leave anything suspicious just lying around out in the open, and previous searches hadn't turned up anything. He did a sweep of all the files on his computer and found nothing hidden, encrypted, or otherwise unusual. The drawers in Loki's desk were locked, however Rogers had an access card with the highest security clearance possible, and could bypass any locks in the entire building. The drawers were practically empty inside, except for what looked to be a thin, flat book. It was a sketch book, Rogers realized, and flipped it open. The first few pages were blank but then...there were dozens of charcoal drawings featuring a beautiful, half-naked, at times completely naked, young woman with glasses and long hair. A blush crept across the Captain's face as he studied them. The quality of the work was actually quite good, it appeared that whatever else he might be, Loki was a rather talented artist. In many of the sketches, it looked as though she was standing in a doorway, or maybe a window. But there was something so familiar about her face...Rogers couldn't quite place it, and it bothered him a little. For a moment, the Captain contemplated putting the book back into the drawer, re-locking it and then reporting to Fury that the office was clean. But he decided against it, something about the woman in the pictures still had him slightly unnerved, and so he took it with him.

Nick Fury didn't say a word as he flipped throughthe drawings in Loki's sketch book. His expression still blank, he closed it and sighed.

''She looks...familiar.'' Captain America explained uncomfortably. ''I can't place her, though. Otherwise, I would have left it alone.''

Fury sighed again and folded his hands. ''Well, Captain, the reason she looks familiar is because she works here.''

Steve Roger's eyebrows went up. ''Here?'' He racked his brain trying to think...and then he remembered where he'd seen her. It was that one morning on the elevator. Of course, she'd been wearing more clothing then, layers of it, in fact.

Fury nodded, then said, ''Captain, please go and inform the...artist that I'd like a word with him.''

''I don't really understand why I've been called in here. To be reprimanded?'' Loki scowled, trying to control his rising anger. ''I haven't done anything, except to be quite helpful and accomodating to you and your agency. Isn't that precisely what you wanted?''

Nick Fury considered this for a long moment before replying. ''Yes, you are correct, that is generally what we wanted, however we certainly didn't expect you to comply without...well, some sort of caveat.''

''You don't trust me,'' said the god. It was a statement, not a question.

''Of course I don't trust you.'' Fury almost sounded amused. ''After your actions, it's going to take a very very long time before I can even consider the _option_ of trusting you. You're here because it's...frankly just safer for all of us this way. Safety, both for my employees and the general public, is my first priority.''

''I haven't done anything to endanger anyone since I've been here,'' Loki insisted, agitated.

There was a moment of strained silence before Fury said, ''I hear that you like to draw.''

An icy feeling crept over Loki's skin; a bolt of anger flashed in his eyes, then was gone, as he composed himself and replied in a cold, calm voice, ''I do. And that's frankly nobody's business but my own.''

''You know, if I were speaking to anyone else on the planet right now I'd say that's true, but I'm not, I'm talking to _you,_'' Fury said pointedly, fixing his eye directly on Loki. ''And remember what I said before about not trusting you? That means what you do _is_ my business. But frankly right now I'm not so concerned with what you do as with _why. _Because motive is where it gets a little sticky with you. 'Misguided' doesn't even begin to cover it. To put it even more clearly: you have serious emotional issues. The dangerous kind. The kind that decades and decades of therapy couldn't even scratch the surface of. So no, my issue isn't that you are taking an interest in the fine arts. I'd like to know why, but no, more specifically, why are you drawing _this_ woman?''

''Those drawings,'' Loki began, attempting to keep his voice calm and even, though he wanted to scream with rage, ''are my personal property. They were in a notebook, which I kept in a locked drawer in my office. One of your people, probably under your orders, went through my things and took it without my permission.''

''I know all of that. Obviously. And it's not what I asked. Why are you drawing her? How do you know her?''

The god closed his eyes for a moment, and did the simplest, most natural thing. He lied. ''She's isn't anybody. She's...a figment of my imagination.''

''There's nothing that beautiful in _your_ imagination. Try again.'' Fury's dangerous look showed that he wasn't kidding around.

Loki's frustration had reached a boiling point. He'd done nothing for the past few months but mentally exhaust himself trying to be compliant and helpful to this man and his damned group of misfit heroes. And the one thing he'd accidentally discovered that suddenly made his existence just slightly more bearable, his beautiful new friend...well, now he was being punished for that. For finding one person who looked at him without disgust, who _desired_ him. And the unfairness of it all crashed down around him so wildly that he couldn't help what came next.

''She's...just...she's _mine!_'' he snarled, aware that this was probably not the smartest thing to say.

He was correct. ''Wrong answer,'' Fury said angrily, getting to his feet now. ''She is not _yours_. She is employed by this agency, therefore she is _my _employee and I have a responsibility to ensure her safety.'' Fury held up one of Loki's sketches. ''I don't know how _this_ happened. I don't know if it was consensual. And I obviously can't trust a word that comes out of _your_ mouth, but know that I am going to get some answers.''

_She's employed by this agency_...Loki's mind reeled. His mystery woman in the window worked for SHIELD? What was going on?

Fury was still eyeing him with cycloptic rage, the vein in his forehead twitching. ''Now get out of here until I call you back in. Do not leave the premises.''

Head still spinning a little, Loki turned and left the room without a word.

Fury watched him go and then picked up his phone. ''I want to see both Thor and Dr. Jane Foster in my office,'' he ordered the person on the other end. ''Now.''


	4. Chapter 4

**Earlier That Morning**

After a fitful night with very little sleep and bright, awkward dreams, Darcy desperately needed coffee before even entering the SHIELD building, so she stopped at Starbucks to get a latte and say hi to Marla, the friendly, outspoken barista behind the counter.

''On your way to work?'' Marla asked her over the familiar screech of steaming milk.

''Yeah,'' Darcy replied, ''unfortunately.'' The barista laughed. ''Hey, it can't be all bad. At least you stand very little chance of going home with caramel sauce in your hair at the end of the day. So you said the other morning that you just moved into the building on 86th? That's a sweet location. How you liking your new place?''

''It's nice,'' admitted Darcy, before adding, ''actually, I was wondering about the building across from mine. You've lived here awhile, do you know anything about...say, what the rent's like? Or how large the units are...or you know, what sort of people live there?'' She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping to find some small bit of information on her mystery man.

Marla paused a moment, thinking, and then frowned. ''Nobody lives there. At least not yet. Stark Industries bought the building a few months back and they've been renovating it, same as they did with yours, but as far as I know they haven't listed any apartments there as available.'' She sighed deeply. ''I wish they would. And I wish I'd be able to afford them when they do. Oh well.'' Marla shrugged and focused on topping the drink with whipped cream and caramel.

_Nobody lives there_. That...wasn't possible. Darcy shook her head, trying to clear it.

''You ok?'' Marla asked in a slightly concerned voice, setting Darcy's drink onto the counter. ''You looked really weird for a second.''

Darcy quickly blinked and collected herself, plastering a fake smile onto her face. ''I'm good, just...remembering that I have this stupid meeting later on today. Ugh, you know. It sucks. See you later!''

Grabbing her latte, she turned and hurried out of the store, grateful for the fresh air, hoping that the cold wind would knock her back to her senses. _Marla was probably thinking about a different building, that's all_, Darcy tried to reason with herself as she hurried along. But there was a kind of strange, suspicious feeling creeping along her spine, reminding her that, aside from Mr. Mysterious, as she'd taken to calling him, she hadn't ever seen another person inside that building, except for his visitor the night before. She'd never noticed lights or movement in any of the other windows. Surely, though, she'd just missed them, what with being distracted by all the lust and partial nudity and so forth.

Her face burned, both from the icy, whipping wind, and from the memory of her antics the previous evening. Darcy was more than a little alarmed by how far she'd almost allowed herself to go. She was more or less what you might call a 'good girl'. She didn't sleep around, didn't drink _too_ much, and she certainly didn't take off her clothes in front of strange men. Until recently. Her actions made her both embarrassed and excited. So naturally, while she had all this going on between her and the attractive stranger it would be easy to overlook other people who might be living ordinary, non-exhibitionist lives in their midst.

Almost to work now, Darcy took a quick sip of her rapidly cooling latte and forced herself to put this temporarily out of her mind. However, that weird creeping, nagging feeling wouldn't go away so easily, and she promised herself that later on that evening before going home she would do a closer inspection of the neighboring building, just to prove to herself that Marla was wrong, that people did live there, lots of people in fact, and that there was nothing, nothing at all strange going on.

* * *

''Is this about the meeting yesterday?'' Jane Foster asked Nick Fury nervously, wiping sweaty palms on her jeans. She couldn't help it, the man was quite intimidating. Having Thor sitting beside her did make the scientist feel marginally less anxious, but not by much. ''I can definitely get even more data but it-''

Fury held up a hand. ''Dr. Foster, the amount of data you gave us was more than sufficient and very helpful, I assure you. The reason that I've asked you both to come here is a bit of a more personal matter. It concerns your friend, Darcy Lewis.''

Jane frowned. ''Darcy? Why, what did she do?'' The astrophysicist assumed that this had something to do with her assistant's infamous taser. She hoped that Darcy hadn't accidentally zapped anyone important.

Fury looked mildly amused, but the look quickly faded off of his face. ''She hasn't done anything wrong, at least not to my knowledge. The quality of work she does is apparently excellent. I was more interested in things that might be going on outside of work. I know you two are fairly close friends. Has she mentioned anything to you—to either of you about being in a relationship?''

Confused, Jane shook her head. She glanced sideways at Thor, who shrugged. ''She hasn't said anything to me,'' he replied.

''And I really don't think so,'' the scientist added. ''Darcy has a hard time _not_ sharing information. Any time in the past that she's met someone, I had to hear all the details. Besides, she's been awfully busy lately, between moving and starting work here. I don't know when she would have really had the time. But, with all due respect, why are you asking us about Darcy's personal life?''

Fury didn't answer for a moment. Silently, he opened a drawer and pulled out the sketch book. Flipping it open to reveal Loki's sketches of Darcy, he slid it across the desk towards Jane and Thor.

''Thor, this was found in your brother's desk.''

Leaning forward to take a look, Jane's eyes widened. ''Oh my,'' she said. Then her expression changed to one of disbelief and anger. ''His _brother_?'' she exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her chair. ''_Loki_? Why the hell would Loki have these...drawings of Darcy?''

''Dr. Foster, Loki drew these. It would appear that he has some sort of...a fixation with Ms. Lewis,'' Fury explained in a patient voice. ''What I am trying to determine is the nature of this fixation. I need some sort of context to put these drawings in, so I'll have to ask again, has she given any indication that she's in an intimate relationship?''

''With _Loki?_'' Jane shuddered, the very idea seeming beyond comprehension to her. ''Of course not! As far as I know, they've never even met, and I hope it stays that way.'' With a quick look at Thor, she mumbled, ''No offense, but your brother _is _insane.''

''Now Jane, be reasonable,'' Thor began evenly, though he looked rather tense after quickly glancing at Loki's artwork. ''I'm sure that there is an explanation for all of...this.''

''Which is precisely why I'm speaking to the two of you,'' Fury added. ''First thing, I need to make sure that Darcy isn't in any kind of danger.''

''My brother has done some terrible things in the past but I assure you, he'd never harm-'' the blond god spoke insistantly, but the Director cut him off.

''I didn't say that he did, but you know as well as I that he doesn't have the best track record when it comes to mental stability. And beyond that, let's face it, Loki is like a lightning rod for chaos and destruction. We know enough of what happened to him before arriving here via the Tesseract to understand that he has had contact with dark forces the likes of which this planet has never seen. Which is part of the reason that he's here with us and not still back on Asgard suffering through whatever punishment Odin deemed sufficient. By his very nature, I'd say that he poses enough of a threat to have me concerned.''

Thor sat quietly, mulling this over. Then he seemed to remember something, and said ''I went over to visit Loki last night, there were some matters that Dr. Banner and the others needed his assistance with. He seemed...distracted and a little agitated. Like I was interrupting something. But as far as I know, there wasn't anyone else there.''

''Why don't you just ask _Darcy_?'' Jane wondered. ''Wouldn't that be the quickest way to figure out what's going on?''

Fury nodded. ''Of course I'm going to speak with Ms. Lewis, but not yet. You see, given the delicate nature of the situation, and especially with Loki being who he is, I need to proceed with caution. And one of the more possible scenarios here is that this...fixation or whatever it is is all in Loki's mind, and Darcy has no idea about any of it. Imagine I pull her in here, show her these drawings and explain that the being who destroyed substantial parts of this city and tried to enslave the entire human race is drawing her in a disturbingly intimate manner. Wouldn't you be terrified and very, very confused by that information? Dr. Foster, my main concern is for your friend's safety, and the safety of everyone who works for this agency. Ms. Lewis was secured a job here because while working with you she became privy to some very sensitive information—''

''She also makes damn good spreadsheets!'' Jane interrupted in defense of her friend, scowling a little.

''—And yes, she _has_ proven herself to be hardworking and valuable. However, once again I must remind you that we are also dealing with _Loki._ And right now, Darcy's security clearance just isn't high enough to disclose any information before I assess the threat.''

''Even if the matter concerns her directly?'' the scientist asked incredulously, her voice filled with frustrated disbelief.

Fury nodded. ''Especially so, for that exact reason.''

''Have you spoken to my brother yet?'' Thor asked, arms crossed, still looking uncharacteristically pensive.

''Indeed I have, and he did admit to drawings these pictures.'' Fury paused. ''He wasn't happy about his privacy being invaded.''

''Well, I can't imagine he would be,'' admitted the god of Thunder. ''Did he say how he knew Darcy?''

''Nothing conclusive.'' The Director folded his hands. ''He did rather emphatically lay claim to her, though. Said that she was his. It was a little disconcerting, to be perfectly honest with you both.''

Fury closed the sketchbook and put it back inside the locking drawer. ''I'm going to discuss this matter with some members of the team and investigate a little more before I decide to speak to Ms. Lewis. In the meantime, don't say anything to her, don't let her think anything out of the ordinary is going on. However, I would like you both to keep a close eye, just to make sure that she's safe. These are just precautions. In my experience, it's always better to anticipate and prepare for the worst. And don't say anything to Loki just yet, either. Thank you both for your time.'' Fury signaled to Jane and Thor that the meeting was over, and the scientist and the god both got to their feet and left the office.

Once again, Fury picked up the phone. ''Captain Rogers, please call all available members of the team together for a brief meeting. One hour.'' He set it down then pinched the bridge of his nose. The events of the day were giving him an unnecessary headache.

* * *

Loki, meanwhile, paced his office floor in confused frustration. Part of him was still raging that his sketches of the woman had been discovered and confiscated, another was furious at himself for being trusting enough to think that they'd be safe in a locked drawer. These people saw him as a constant threat, and perhaps they were correct to. But that didn't make it any less hard to deal with.

He closed his eyes for a moment, pausing in his wearying pacing and trying to clear his head. But he just saw her. Soft, creamy skin and bright blue eyes. He was instantly transported back to the first time she appeared in the window. Oblivious, naked, daydreaming...until she happened to turn and look right at him. He expected her to run away instantly, cover herself, maybe even shriek for good, melodramatic measure. But for a moment, she hadn't done any of those things. She'd just looked at him, a deep, long look that didn't really register any fear. Just curiosity. And then of course she'd run away, but almost as an afterthought. And it had just escalated from there.

Truly, he hadn't really expected it all to go as far as it did. He was more than a little surprised by her fearlessness, her trust, and certainly by her actions. Part of the conditions under which Loki was sent back to Midgard was the binding of some of his magical abilities. But he was still able to access the more basic ones, and while he couldn't influence anyone else's mind, he could sometimes still glimpse into their thoughts, particularly if they were projected strongly enough. Most people thought so loudly that it was less like prying and more like overhearing, Loki realized. And the young woman's thoughts had been dialed up to a high volume. She _liked_ him, or at the very least she found him attractive. And she certainly didn't recognize him, or associate him in any way with the events that had occurred so many months before.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to her also, aroused by her. Obviously, he was. He hadn't paid much attention to physical desire in a very long time, but that was because he'd had far more important things to focus on. Now, he was stuck on this miserable realm, despised by its heroes, who kept him around because he had information that might help them avoid a bigger threat than himself, hunted by enemies the thought of which gave him nightmares. The 'Avengers' had decided that he wasn't enough of a threat to keep in a cage, but still too dangerous to not be kept on a close leash. And so the metal man, Stark, offered to let him live in an empty, newly acquired high-rise apartment building that was in the process of renovation. It was like being on probation. Either Thor or one of the others would stop by periodically at random hours, to make sure that he wasn't busy hatching a diabolical plan to enslave them all. It was laughable. Loki didn't have the Tesseract, and he didn't have an army. All that he had now was a heart flooded with bitterness and anger. It wasn't an all-encompassing, violent supernova of rage like it had been with the blue madness of the Tesseract flooding his senses, making him burn from the inside out. That was apocalyptic anger, the sort that made him want to tear worlds apart, obliterate universes. It was a kind of high. The scepter in his hand had been almost alive and humming; intelligent energy. It looked into him and grafted itself to his feelings of anger and betrayal, amplifying them, all the while whispering that _this_ was his destiny, his ultimate purpose. To take. To destroy and lay waste.

But no more. Without that energy source to drain and feed him at the same time, he was now just Loki, the abandoned child left to die in the snow, now grown and left to live in the shadows and endure the hostile or disgusted glares of people who really were no better than him, deep down. And they just kept taking from him, kept punishing him. Extinguishing any light that he might find.

* * *

''I truly do not get why we're talking about this. So the guy likes to draw. Big deal.'' Tony Stark sat up, removing his feet from where they had been propped up on the conference room table. He reached over and grabbed one of Loki's sketches, which was lying in the center of that table, almost on display. ''See, if he had drawn her with her head chopped off, or a knife sticking out of her, then I could understand the cause for alarm. But _this_-'' the billionaire held up the charcoal sketch for the rest of the Avengers to see, ''is not a threat. This does not scream 'murder, mayhem, and destruction.' The quality is almost...reverent. Caring. If anything, this is demonstrating that Loki has a heart.''

''With all due respect, Tony-'' Steve Rogers began, but Stark cut him off. ''I wasn't finished. And I cannot believe that with all of the very real, very serious threats that we are facing right now, we choose to investigate one that doesn't exist. Since he was brought back here, Loki has been nothing but compliant and helpful. True, he is bitter, and angry, and a god. These things are still definitely a bad combination, but we've cut off all his dangerous power sources. We've left him with virtually nothing. And he needed to be punished, I _get _that, trust me. But honestly, what I see when I look at Loki is profound, soul-killing loneliness. I think that this girl, Darcy, in whatever way, made him feel a little less lonely.''

There was nothing but silence at the table for a moment. Then the Black Widow spoke. ''I agree with Tony,'' she said slowly. ''The other day I was walking by her desk and noticed that she was looking at lingerie. She expressed an interest in buying some and so I referred her to a friend of mine. Look, it's not out of the realm of possibility that they met somehow and had a mutual attraction. She might not know who he is, might not know all the horrible things he's done, and maybe for the time being he wants to keep it that way. Maybe he likes the feeling of being accepted. It must be a rare thing for him. And Stark, you're absolutely right, this is a giant waste of time. Director Fury, please just talk to Darcy Lewis and get this sorted out.''

Before Fury could open his mouth, Tony Stark began to laugh. The Director raised an eyebrow. ''Mr. Stark,'' he said in a warning tone, ''could you please share with the rest of us what you find so humorous?''

''Sorry,'' Iron Man said, composing himself. ''Ok. It's just that, well, I recognize the window in these drawings. It took me a second, but I realize now...the way that Loki 'met' Darcy, I guess. They're neighbors. As you probably know, Loki lives in one of my newly acquired buildings. It's empty now, eventually it'll be luxury apartments. I dabble in real estate, it's a hobby. Anyway, the building where Loki lives is right next to one of my others, and as I recall, Thor and his girlfriend came to me inquiring about getting a decent apartment in the city for their friend, Darcy, who had recently gotten a job with none other than this fine agency. There it is, mystery solved. Loki has a crush on his hot neighbor. Elementary, Watson.'' Stark looked wildly pleased with himself.

''It is true that they live close to each other,'' admitted Thor, nodding. ''I just didn't really make the connection before.''

Satisfied, Tony pushed back his chair. ''Now, I'm going to get lunch. Banner, you want to come?''

The brooding scientist, who had been silent the entire time, nodded. ''Sure. I don't really have anything to contribute here.''

''What about me?'' asked Captain America. ''I thought we were going to go to that shawarma place again.''

Clint Barton stifled a laugh and Natasha surreptitiously punched him in the shoulder.

''_You_ don't get to come this time, Snitchy McGee.'' Stark glared at the Captain. ''What if I decide to draw a naked woman on a napkin? You might _tell_ on me.''

''Hey, Tony, that's not fair-'' Rogers began, sounding a little hurt. He was cut off by Fury, who was now standing, a look of frustration and profound annoyance on his face. ''Did I say you were dismissed, Stark? Sit down and keep your mouth shut for a minute.'' The billionaire reluctantly complied, returning to his chair with a slight scowl. Fury nodded. ''That's better. Now, while I respect and even understand your opinion, _you_ are not running this agency. _You_ do not get to make the final decision as to who is a threat or not. I don't like this situation any more than you do. I hate it that this poor young woman's privacy has been so violated. I feel terrible that we're passing around these drawings without her knowledge. But I don't have the luxury of dismissing any threat, however innocuous. It's an unfortunate part of this job. And in my experience, things are never as simple as they might seem on the surface. But if the rest of you feel the way that Stark and Natasha do, or if you're simply apathetic to the matter as some of you seem to be, then I'll go ahead and speak to Darcy.''

The Director looked tired and irritated, also the tiniest bit saddened. Tony Stark noticed this. ''Hey, I'll go get her if you want,'' he volunteered. ''Shawarma can wait a few minutes.'' Fury considered this for a moment, and nodded. ''Alright. Stark, you can inform Ms. Lewis that I would like a word with her and then escort her back here. The rest of you are dismissed.''

As his team filed out of the conference room, Fury sat down quietly for a moment, massaging his temples. His headache was steadily getting worse, and he wasn't really looking forward to the uncomfortable conversation that was to follow.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy couldn't concentrate. She was trying to focus on the database in front of her, but every few seconds, it seemed, her attention would be pulled back like a magnet to all of the puzzling questions tap dancing around in her mind. Removing her glasses for a moment, she rubbed her eyes wearily, then cleaned the lenses with the corner of her shirt. When she slipped them back on, a face came clearly into her view.

''Hey, kid,'' Tony Stark said, seemingly having appeared out of thin air. Darcy jumped. First the Black Widow, now Iron Man. The Avengers seemed to want to scare her to death. ''Hello, Mr. Stark,'' she gasped out.

''Whoa there. Didn't mean to startle you,'' he said apologetically, holding up his hands and observing her with a lopsided smile. ''Darcy Lewis, I presume?''

She nodded. ''Yeah, that's me. Can I, uh...help you with anything?''

Stark didn't say anything right away, he just looked at her rather sympathetically, which greatly unnerved her. He seemed to be considering something. Then he said, ''Yes you can, actually. Ms. Lewis, Director Fury has requested your presence, he has a matter that he would like to discuss with you.''

Darcy felt her heart plummet into her shoes like a falling elevator car. _Nick Fury wanted to talk to her? _Why? What had she done?

''Did I do something wrong?'' she asked, toying nervously with a fraying piece of her sweater. ''Was it the charts that I made for Jane? It _was_ the charts, wasn't it? I'm sorry, but I'm still getting used to all your software. I can-''

Iron Man held up a hand to stop her rambling. ''This isn't about the charts. Charts were good. I liked that they were in color, that always helps. I can't give you any specific details, but you're definitely _not_ in trouble, so you can stop hyperventilating and trying to tear your sweater apart.'' He cocked his head to one side. ''On second thought, keep trying to tear the sweater apart. It's...icky.''

She rolled her eyes at him, feeling herself relax just ever so slightly. ''So's your face,'' she retorted.

Tony grinned. ''Touché. C'mon,'' he gestured with his hand for her to follow. Reluctantly, Darcy saved and closed all of the open files on the computer and got to her feet. She followed Stark as he led her down the hallway and onto the elevator. He pressed a button and rather than moving up the way she expected it to, it descended until the doors opened to reveal the building lobby. Tony walked out and Darcy curiously ventured after him, even as he pushed open the front doors of the building and headed outside onto the pavement where a car was waiting.

''Um...Mr. Stark?'' Darcy asked, hurrying to keep up with him, ''Where are we going? I thought that I was supposed to talk to the Director.''

Stark opened the car door and turned to face her, motioning for her to get in. ''You are. But I can't let you go in there on an empty stomach, it would just be cruel. How do you feel about shawarma?''

* * *

It was truly surreal, the situation in which Darcy had found herself. Less than a week before, she'd been a glorified office drone who nobody looked at twice. Now she was someone who shopped for lingerie at the same place as the Black Widow, Nick Fury wanted to talk to her about god-knows-what, and now she was eating a late lunch with none other than Tony Stark. This couldn't just be a coincidence. Something very _odd_ was going on, and Darcy was a little afraid to find out what it was.

''So,'' Iron Man began conversationally as their waiter brought over large plates full of pita bread stuffed with strips of lamb and vegetables, ''I heard that you used to be Dr. Foster's assistant. You were working with her and Dr. Selvig when Mr. Thunder made his first appearance. Nice work with the taser, by the way.'' He took a sip of his Scotch and soda, then continued. ''So, where were you when the whole invasion fandango went down here?''

''Well...um, I was still in New Mexico,'' Darcy replied, trying to pick some of the meat out of the pita pocket. She wasn't a vegetarian, but something about this shawarma stuff weirded her out just a little. Maybe it was the way it was prepared, like a giant cotton candy-esque swirl of strange meat on a stick. Vegetables and hummus would suit her just fine for today, she decided, as she continued. ''It was literally right after I finished college. You guys—er, SHIELD, I mean, sent Jane to do some work at an observatory in Norway. I was going to fly out there and meet up with her. I didn't really care about the whole graduation ceremony—you know, the stupid hat and gown and everything. It all just seemed like a huge waste of time. And I didn't really have any family that were going to show up with flowers and presents. My intention was just to grab my diploma from the Registrar's office and hop on a plane. I thought it was cool. I was gonna go to a foreign country. And, unlike pretty much everyone I knew, I had a job lined up. Even if it was only entering data and making coffee for Jane.''

Darcy smiled wistfully before her expression drooped slightly as she continued, ''But then, the very day that my plane was supposed to leave, I hear on the news that there's some kind of attack on New York. The reports were all a little vague at first, the footage just showed a lot of explosions, and what looked like...insect machines flying through the air. Needless to say, all flights were grounded. So I just waited. And then a few days later, after it's all over, Jane calls me and says that she's coming back to the US, to New York. She was going to be working for SHIELD directly- 'better the devil you know,' she said—and she would try her best to find a place for me there. So I waited again. There weren't exactly an abundance of job opportunities for Poli Sci majors in the New Mexico desert, and besides, I didn't want to have anything to do with that anyway. I guess I just got hooked on _real_ science after working with Jane for so long. And, I hate to admit it, but I really _missed_ her. I missed her nagging at me and yanking my earbuds out of my ears when she thought I wasn't paying attention to her. I always was, though, secretly. In an odd way, she was like the older sister and mom that I never had, at the same time.''

It wasn't until she saw damp spots spreading along her napkin that Darcy realized, to her dismay, that she'd begun to cry. Tony Stark didn't say anything, though, but he slid his glass of Scotch across the table towards her and said, ''Let it out, kid, it's fine. Not all great stories are necessarily happy ones, especially not at first.''

Darcy had never tasted Scotch before, but she wasn't going to refuse. She accepted Iron Man's offering and took a long, hard sip of the deep amber colored liquid. It burned like velvet, a pain that was somehow pleasant and welcome as it slid down her throat. ''Thanks, Mr. Stark,'' she replied softly. He didn't reply, just regarded her with warm, chocolate brown eyes that were suddenly so much kinder than she'd ever realized.

Darcy felt comfortable, perhaps it was the alcohol, and so she continued on with her story. ''I needed to do something in the meantime, obviously, so I took a job as a waitress, but I sucked at it. I was always broke, and the uniform was hideous. And then one day, out of the blue, Jane called me and said that there was a position open at SHIELD and she'd recommended me. Not 24 hours later, I got another phone call from someone saying that the job was mine, if I wanted it. Of course, I said yes and the next day a plane ticket arrived in the mail. And the rest is history.'' She picked at a slice of cucumber on her plate. Darcy realized that now she had the perfect opportunity to finally get an answer to one of the questions that had plagued her all day. ''Mr. Stark, maybe you can help me with something,'' she ventured. He raised an eyebrow, indicating that he was still listening, and she went on, ''I know that you own my apartment building and the building next to it and I was just wondering-''

She was interrupted suddenly by the ringing of Tony's cell phone. He looked down at it and sighed, holding up a finger to signal her to wait a second. Darcy nodded and chewed nervously on one of her fingernails. Stark rolled his eyes and nodded into the phone. ''Yes, _Mother, _we'll be right there.'' Annoyed sarcasm oozed from his voice. Ending the call, he looked at her once again with great sympathy. ''Ok, kid. We better hit the road before they send the Cavalry out after us.'' He slid the glass of Scotch back across the table towards her, and she took a large sip, then coughed.

''What was it that you were wondering?'' asked Tony, his facial expression vacillating between amusement and pity. Darcy shook her head, throat burning from the drink. Her eyes watered. ''Never mind,'' she said quietly. ''Let's get this over with, I guess.''

* * *

Darcy didn't say a word as Tony Stark led her back through the lobby of the SHIELD building and onto the elevator, which moved upward this time. Her stomach turned flip flops with the motion.

''Thanks for lunch, Mr. Stark,'' she told the billionaire. ''And thanks for being so nice.'' He looked at her with a kind of breaking half-smile.

''I'm not all that nice,'' was his reply. ''But occasionally, I do try to do the right thing.''

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. ''After you,'' Tony said, gesturing for her to step out. Resignedly, Darcy walked into the hallway, in a section of the building that she had never seen before.

''Is this where all the important people work?'' she whispered. Iron Man snorted. ''Depends on what you mean by _important_,'' he replied, as they reached a room at the end of the corridor. ''This is your stop, kid. Try not to look _quite_ so excited about it,'' he added, after observing her grim expression. ''I promise, this isn't anything bad. Scout's Honor.''

''I'll bet you were _never_ a Boy Scout.'' Darcy scoffed, cracking a small smile. Stark merely grinned and opened the door, revealing a very large office. Inside, there was a rather imposing-looking man with dark skin and an eye patch seated at a desk. He didn't seem happy. ''You are very late, Stark,'' the man said in a deep, deceptively calm voice.

Tony, as usual, didn't seem fazed. ''I told you I was going to lunch,'' he said casually, then placed an arm around Darcy's shoulder and led her over to the desk. ''Darce, this is Mr. Nicholas Fury, SHIELD Director. And yes, he always looks constipated. Director Fury, this charming young lady is the one and only Darcy Lewis.''

Nick Fury's face was unreadable. ''Hello, Ms. Lewis. Please, have a seat.'' He motioned to the chair in front of her. ''Stark, you can go now.'' The billionaire made a face at his sometimes-boss, and then turned and sauntered towards the door. ''Oh, and I'd watch out for this one, Nicky. We know she's pretty deadly with a taser,'' he called over his shoulder as he left.

''That was just one time,'' Darcy mumbled, looking down at her shoes. ''And it didn't really hurt him or anything.'' A moment of uncomfortable silence passed.

''I just want to make one thing clear here, you haven't done anything wrong,'' the Director began. Darcy raised her head to look at him.

''I just need to ask you a few questions, and I would like you to answer me honestly. No matter what, as I said, you won't be in trouble, but I need to know some things just so I can make sure that you and everyone else who works here is safe. Can you do that?''

Swallowing hard, Darcy nodded. A giant lump seemed to have formed in her throat. ''Yes sir,'' was her soft reply.

Fury slid something across the table and into her line of vision. It was a photograph. ''Ms. Lewis, can you please tell me if you know this man?''

Darcy leaned forward and studied the photo, eyes widening. Her breath hitched, her heart did a swift somersault, then landed with a thud in her chest. It was _him_. Her mystery neighbor. Only he looked very different. He looked _ill—_his face was gaunt and devoid of color, his lips were dry and cracked. His hair was longer, very unkempt, and there were heavy dark shadows beneath his eyes, which were almost _too_ blue, glittering with a kind of pained mania that was deeply unsettling.

''Yes...but not...I mean...'' she stammered, studying the image again. ''Why does he look like this? Like he's been tortured, or something?''

''So, you _do_ know him?'' Fury pressed, but not unkindly.

''I've...yeah...I've seen him before. He's my neighbor. I don't know his name. I've actually been trying to figure out who he is. But he doesn't look sick and, well, sort of insane the way he does in this picture.'' She carefully skipped around the part where he watched her perform naughty stripteases through the window. A strange, twisting concern began to spread through Darcy. ''Is...is he somebody important?''

An ironic smile briefly swept over Fury's face and then was gone. ''Depends on what you mean by important,'' he replied, and a feeling of de ja vu socked her in the gut. ''His name is Loki. He's the adopted brother of your friend, Thor. To say that he's the black sheep of that family would be a serious understatement. Loki was the one responsible for the attack on this city.''

Darcy felt like she'd been doused in icy water. _It couldn't be true. _She sucked in a deep breath to try to calm herself. It didn't work.''But, but there was...there was more, I saw footage on the news—there were...big metal spaceships flying around and...'' she stammered until Fury cut her off.

''Ms. Lewis, we determined what information was released to the general public regarding that incident, obviously, in order to avoid an even larger panic. Whatever you saw on the news was only what we let you see. And yes, there was an invasion by other-dimensional beings, but that invasion was led by none other than the man in this photograph. He somehow got his hands on an energy source of catastrophic power, and he used it in an attempt to effectively destroy us all.'' He sat back and waited while she absorbed this information. He didn't have to wait long.

''If he's as bad as you say then why is he _living next door to me_?'' Darcy's voice rose in a flood of anger. She tried like hell to dial it back, but it was like swimming against a current. ''I don't really know if I believe you, about any of this. You said yourself not five seconds ago, you _lie _to people all the time. And I'm just a glorified secretary, just one of the ignorant masses, right? Easily gullible, easily lied to, in your mind. I'm not _stupid_, sir. If he really was _that_ dangerous, then he would be locked in a maximum-security cell somewhere, in a straightjacket and a Hannibal Lector mask. And he's not, he's living in the building right next to mine. He goes to work and comes back every day around 7 at night, he wears a suit and tie like any normal businessman. So I really don't understand what you're trying to do here, Mr. Fury. But I don't like it. And that's my honest answer.''

She was trembling now, eyes brimming with tears. Darcy struggled to hold them back, clenching her fists and digging her fingernails into her palm.

Fury's face softened slightly, but his voice, however, did not. ''Ms. Lewis, I really can't divulge the specifics as to why we made the decisions we did regarding Loki's fate. He does, however, work with us now.''

''So, he's a _good_ guy?'' she asked, wary and more than a little exhausted from the confusing revelations of the past few minutes.

''Not in the least,'' Fury said with a small bark of laughter. It didn't help the situation.

''I thought you would say that it depends on what I meant by '_good_','' Darcy said icily. ''And you still haven't really gotten around to telling me why I'm sitting here right now. None of this makes any sense.'' But even as she spoke, a tiny suspicion crept out of a corner in her mind, and she tried to squash it down. And then the stinging bolt of reality crashed through her. This, for whatever reason, had_ everything_ to do with the 'games' she'd been playing with her neighbor, who now might or might not be a mass-murdering, invasion-leading psychopath. She broke out into a cold sweat, not knowing whether to cry hysterically or burst out laughing.

''You are sitting here right now because some evidence has come to light that I felt needed to be investigated.'' Fury slid something else across the table towards her, it looked like an artist's sketch book, and it was flipped open to a page full of intricate charcoal sketches of a naked woman. Who looked incredibly familiar. _Oh._ Her suspicions confirmed, Darcy didn't say a word, just pulled the book closer. It was her, all right. One drawing featured her standing with her long hair hanging down around her face and a startled, yet transfixed look in her eye. She recognized the moment, it was the first time she had seen him through the window, the night she moved in. _Is that what I look like_? She wondered, feeling strangely flattered. He'd drawn her so much prettier than she remembered herself looking. That particular occasion she'd been tired and awkward, still dripping wet from a shower.

There was something so warm and full of longing about the sketch, Darcy observed. She recalled their interrupted 'meeting' the night before when it had begun to snow and he traced his fingers over the glass... and then she stared down again at the photo of the wild-eyed, sick-looking man and tried hard to make a connection.

''He drew these?'' she asked, though it didn't sound like a question. Of course, she already knew the answer. Fury nodded.

''Then why do _you_ have them?'' Darcy's voice iced itself over again. She couldn't help it. This was so frustrating and unfair. Fury raised an eyebrow, and she continued, rambling on. ''This...this is an invasion of privacy. And a pretty twisted one. You pull me in here, tell me a lot of contradicting things that don't compute at all and then you excuse yourself by saying that you can't explain it because I'm not _important_ enough to know the truth. Because apparently, none of us are, except for a select few. And you probably don't even tell _them_ everything. I get that you run a big, super-secret organization, but that doesn't give you the right to mess with people's lives like this. This place is really more trouble than it's worth.'' There were hot tears slowly running down her face now, and Darcy scrubbed them away with the sleeve of her sweater.

''Ms. Lewis, I understand how you feel, but my main consideration in all of this, as I said, is your safety. Now, if you can tell me absolutely that these drawings do not trouble you in any way, then the matter is settled. But I must inform you that I would seriously advise against you entering into any sort of a personal relationship with Loki.'' The Director leaned back in his chair.

''This place is _crazy_,'' Darcy hissed lightly. She closed her eyes for a moment to calm herself before responding. ''No, the drawings don't bother me. This weird, Kafka-esque interrogation bothers me.''

''That's putting it a little strong, don't you think?'' Fury sounded bitterly amused.

''What was that famous quote, something like 'those who give up their liberty for a little bit of safety deserve neither liberty nor safety?' '' Darcy glared at him.

''That's definitely paraphrasing it, but yes, I'm familiar, and despite you may believe, I do have your best interest at heart. I just need to make sure that you don't get hurt. And generally, people who get too close to this guy-'' Fury picked up the photograph of Loki, ''tend to wind up getting hurt, sooner or later.''

''Are we done now?'' she asked, her voice hard.

Fury sighed deeply. ''Yes, Ms. Lewis, I suppose that we are.''

Darcy pushed back her chair and stood, looking at the sketch book lying on the table. ''I'd like to have these drawings, sir, if you don't mind.'' She drew herself up firmly as she spoke, trying her best to seem both coldly polite and forceful at the same time. It took nearly every ounce of her strength.

The SHIELD Director nodded, extending a hand and pushing the book closer to her. ''You can go now, Ms. Lewis,'' he said.

* * *

Clutching the book to her chest, Darcy tried desperately not to cry in the middle of the hallway. She picked up the pace, practically sprinting towards the elevator, just needing to get out of that place. Then a curvy female figure materialized in her path, and she screeched to a halt to avoid colliding with Natasha Romanov. What was _with _these damn people?

The Black Widow gently took Darcy by the arm. ''Come with me,'' she whispered. The elevator doors opened and the red-haired assassin pulled her inside.

''Why should I? Why should I trust any of you?'' Darcy whispered, turning her head so that Natasha wouldn't see her crying.

''You shouldn't,'' the other woman replied simply. ''But I_ am _trulysorry about what happened in there. Fury means well, but you know what roads to hell are made of.''

''Where are we going?'' asked Darcy limply. She didn't really care anymore, somehow. Maybe she was going into some weird form of emotional shock.

''Happy hour,'' was the redhead's cryptic response.

* * *

Tony Stark watched as Loki paced his office floor like a caged animal. An inexplicable pang of sympathy tugged at him, and so he knocked on the glass door. Loki paused and looked at him. Very slowly and grudgingly, he walked over and opened it. ''What do you want?'' the Asgardian asked in a weary-sounding voice.

''How's it going?'' Iron Man casually slid past him and into the office. ''I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I heard about the whole debacle this morning. Artists are _so_ rarely appreciated in their own time. But hey, good art is supposed to cause a little bit of a stir, right?''

Loki didn't say anything, just clenched his fists and stared at the floor, jaw set in a firm line.

''Look,'' Stark continued, ''I didn't rat you out to Fury, but I'm sorry that someone else did. And I think the whole thing just got blown way out of proportion.'' He wandered around the room, picking random things up and then setting them back down. The billionaire, among other things, had an almost chronic inability to be still. ''Nicky's just got pissed 'cause he was afraid that you were getting more action than him.'' Tony rolled his eyes. ''He hasn't gotten any in awhile and it's making him cranky.''

Raising his head to look at Stark, Loki almost smiled. ''I didn't really have...action,'' he admitted. ''I just watched her.''

''Hey, that can be fun too.'' Setting down the glass paperweight that he had been turning over in his hand, Tony shrugged. ''She's a nice girl, though,'' he added, looking right at Loki. ''Has a penchant for wearing really terrible sweaters, but fortunately, _you've_ probably never seen them.''

''Who is she?'' asked the god, his voice full of an almost desperate curiosity. ''You must know her.''

''Actually, I only officially met her a few hours ago. I took her to lunch. We had shawarma—have you ever had shawarma, by the way? It's terrific. Anyhow, her name is Darcy and she's a low-level data entry specialist who seems to continuously find herself stumbling into the path of chaos. She electrocuted your brother upon his first arrival here on our fine planet.''

Stark saw Loki's eyes light up with brief delight at this piece of information. ''Yeah, she might be a handful,'' Iron Man continued, ''but she _is_ a good person, a smart person. And I don't think it's fair that she's getting put through the ringer right now because of whatever strange—not judging here, just saying—kink that you guys might have going on.''

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly. ''What do you mean, 'getting put through the ringer'?'' the god asked in a low voice.

''Our fearless leader, one Mr. Nicholas Fury, called Darcy into his office for a meeting just a short time ago. I guess he wanted to make sure that everything was kosher after he...appropriated those drawings of yours.''

Stark observed Loki's slumped posture as he seemed to fold slightly into himself, a pained expression briefly crumpling his features. Tony recognized the look. It was that of a beaten man.

''He will tell her everything, and then she'll be gone. He'll tell her who I really am, what I've done.'' Loki's voice was like cold stone. ''She will find a new place to live, somewhere a monster won't be able to look at her. And she'll feel disgusted with herself that she let me look at her, that she _wanted_ me to.'' He sounded agonized, yet resigned, continuing on in a grim monotone, ''In a way, maybe it's better. I won't have to see her look at me the way the rest of you do.''

''Look, buddy,'' Tony said, stepping directly in front of the tall, despairing deity and trying to reason with him, ''I met this girl, and she really doesn't strike me as the type to scream like a helpless maiden and run away. She might be a little pissed at what you did, obviously, we _all _are. But she's...somehow not fazed by every weird thing that she's encountered, things that would definitely freak a normal person. Darcy is far from ordinary. And I hate myself for saying this, but...you've actually been pretty cool lately. I liked that you've eased up on the whole people-are-ants logic that got you into so much trouble in the first place. And your wardrobe has improved _drastically_. That's half the battle right there. So I don't know why, but I want to help you. You and Darcy both. However, I can't help you until you tell me your side of the story.'' Stark said all of this with alarming sincerity, then added, ''God, I don't know why I'm doing this! I must be a masochist. But yes, I would like to hear it. Let's get a drink.''

''There isn't enough alcohol in the world,'' Loki said, almost mournfully.

''Oh, I _beg_ to differ,'' Tony replied. ''C'mon, let's get out of here.''


	6. Chapter 6

''What _is _this place?'' Darcy asked as Natasha led her into a smoky, quiet little bar that had a strangely elegant quality about it, despite the pervasive hole-in-the-wall aura. There was virtually nobody else there, except for the bartender, a huge beast of a man who reminded Darcy a little of Bane from the latest Batman film, except that he wasn't wearing a mask.

''This is where I come to relax, and occasionally, to conduct business,'' Natasha replied, sliding onto one of the bar stools and motioning for Darcy to join her. ''Ivan!'' she called, gesturing to the enormous bartender, who nodded and brought over a large bottle of vodka and two glasses.

Darcy watched as the red haired woman filled the glasses with the clear liquid, then handed one to her. ''Aren't you going to mix it with anything?'' she asked warily. Natasha looked at her with a very stern expression. ''That would be an _abomination_. You don't mix this. You drink it straight,'' she explained, then demonstrated by throwing back her head and taking a long swallow.

''Doesn't that burn?'' asked Darcy with a shudder.

''Only a little at first. And you'll get used to it. You're a strong woman, you need to learn to drink like one. Get going.'' The Black Widow nodded towards Darcy's still-full glass.

''I must be going insane,'' she whispered, then imitating Natasha's movements, she picked up the drink, closed her eyes, and knocked it back. It slid down with surprising smoothness, followed by a brief stinging sensation that seemed to clear Darcy's sinuses almost instantaneously.

Eyes watering, she set the glass down and took a deep breath. ''Not too bad,'' she admitted.

''I told you. Now,'' Natasha said, as she poured them both another glass, ''tell me how all of this started between you and Loki.''

* * *

**At Stark Tower**

''Whoa, man...'' Tony Stark couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he poured another glass of Scotch. ''That's some crazy shit! I gotta tell you though, I'm not surprised she's a little bit freaky...it must be the glasses. Chicks with glasses _always_ have some kind of secret kink.''

Loki took a sip and then nodded. ''I was a little surprised by that myself. But I certainly wasn't going to complain. I mean...well, you know...she's quite beautiful...'' he absently tugged at the collar of his shirt, blushing slightly. ''Then of course, my brother decided to knock on the door. His timing has always been_ terrible_.'' The god made a face. He hesitated for a moment before asking, ''Do you really think that she'll even consider speaking to me after everything Fury told her? And what if she's...offended by those drawings?''

The worried look on Loki's face was enough to give Tony pause yet again. Until today, he'd never seen him so troubled. It was a very interesting new development, but one that supported a theory which had begun to take root in Stark's ever-active mind. ''I don't think that she'll be offended,'' he offered. ''I mean, it's not like you saw anything she didn't want you to see. And again, Darcy is pretty smart. She's not automatically going to take everything Fury tells her as gospel.''

Stark took another long sip of Scotch and then ventured, ''Honestly, though, I didn't think you were capable of getting so hung up on a girl. Especially a human girl. I mean—you actually care what she thinks of you.''

Loki sat quietly, studying the liquid in his glass, swirling it with a melancholy expression. ''For as long as I can remember, I've felt like some sort of a mistake. Ungrounded, like I didn't have a purpose. I was just _there_, forced into a world that I didn't truly belong to. So gradually, I did become very bitter and angry. I always told myself, ''Some day, I will make them see. Someday, I will have meaning.'' Of course, I didn't really know how I was going to achieve this, but that idea became the strongest thing in my world, and it influenced and felt into all of my magic, my so-called 'mischief'. It pulled at me, and I found myself not able to care about anything else. Not family, not friends, not love—all of those things were both obstacles and illusions. And then opportunity presented itself.''

Loki's eyes took on a foggy sheen, as if he were deeply locked into the reliving of that moment. It made him look very, very, far away. ''I was given the chance to have purpose. I could make them all _see_, finally. I know now that it was just the Tesseract poisoning my mind, but in those moments after arriving here with the scepter, I was absolutely sure that I was doing the right thing.''

Stark nodded. ''You thought that by ruling humans you would be helping them. You felt like...this was what we truly wanted, deep inside.''

''I did. And I could see it so clearly, it was...beautiful. And I finally had meaning.'' The weird, brief shimmer left his eyes and once again he was like an empty room, full of echoes.

''Did you think that we'd love you?'' Tony asked this question as he refilled Loki's glass.

''I don't think I quite understand your meaning,'' the god said, a puzzled expression falling across his pale face like a curtain.

''What I mean is,'' continued Tony, now topping off his own drink, ''it seems to me like for whatever reason, not only did you always feel like you never belonged, but you felt chronically _unloved_. And even though that maybe there were at least a couple of people who really did love you—like your mom and _yes_, even your brother-you refused to allow yourself to believe it. Because that feeling of not-belonging was too strong. So somewhere along the line, in your mind I think that you came to believe that if you achieved all of this, your great _purpose_-if you took us over, showed us the error of our ways and ruled us, then we would love you. And if we didn't love you, we would at least _fear_ you and in your mind that would be the next best thing. But it doesn't work like that. Not on this planet. Not that way. Wanting to belong, wanting love, wanting a purpose—these are all things that human beings feel. That's what we live our entire lives for. Sometimes we find those things, sometimes we don't, but we are content to know that we at least have the chance. You're really not so different from most humans, when it comes down to it. You have family issues, you're riddled with insecurity, and you have virtually no self-esteem. Now that we've taken away your army and your magical glow-stick, you've been left feeling—pardon me for saying this, but—_impotent_. And without all the armor, you realize that you're vulnerable again. All those old feelings are coming back with a vengeance. You can't force people to love you now.''

Stark swigged his glass of Scotch with ferocity, nearly downing it in one massive gulp.''But that doesn't mean they never will. You looked out the window one day and you found Darcy. And she kept coming back, not because you _ruled_ her, not because she was afraid, but because she _likes_ you. And you know that, and it scares the hell out of you, because you like her too and now you're convinced that you're going to lose her. You've already given up and you've never even said a word to Darcy. You've never touched her, never even seen her without panes of glass separating the two of you.'' Iron Man set down his now-empty glass on the bar and pulled out his cell phone, which buzzed with an incoming text message.

Loki contemplated Stark's words for a long moment, slightly alarmed at how correct his observations were. Nobody had ever taken the time to try to figure him out like that before. He looked down at his obscured reflection in the glass tumbler in front of him. The god had drank at l_east_ half a bottle of very old, very expensive Scotch and only felt a very mild, warm blurriness at the edges of his mind. It was comfortable.

''Ok, c'mon,'' Tony sort of half-slid, half-fell off of his chair and got to his feet, swaying a bit. He motioned for Loki to get up too. ''Therapy hour is over, time to go.''

''Where are we going?'' he asked warily.

Stark grinned. ''To see your girl,'' he replied.

* * *

**Meanwhile, at SHIELD**

Jane frowned at the computer screen, her brown deeply furrowed with worried lines. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. Thor stood by the window, staring out at the angry-looking clusters of dark clouds that had almost completely taken over the sky. Snow was now falling furiously, and the rush-hour traffic was gridlocked in many parts of the city as frustrated commuters tried to make their way home in the storm.

''...And it doesn't seem like the snow will be letting up anytime soon,'' the blonde meteorologist spoke rather ominously from the television mounted on the far wall of the office, ''In fact, this new storm system that we've been tracking is far larger than any we've seen before...''

''Thor, I'm _really_ worried about this. Something is very wrong here.''

The blond god turned around to face Jane. ''My love, please do not sound so alarmed. Surely you've seen large storms before.''

''Yes, but this is different. And it's...it's not just a storm. Like I told you, for weeks, I've been cross referencing newer data with the data that I got in Tromso, and even before that. There's been record early snowfall all over the world, even in regions that virtually never see so much as one flake. Sea levels have been slowly but steadily rising over the past year and a half, with a particular increase occurring in just the past six months. There's been an uncomfortable amount of volcanic activity as well, especially in Iceland. And it all seems to be increasing, building up to something.''

Thor looked puzzled. ''Yes, but Jane, aren't these phenomena something that humans are already aware of? I believe that you told me it had something to do with a global warming? You made me watch a particularly frightening film about it.''

''Thor, global warming happens gradually. It wouldn't account for this acute intensifying of activity. And the numbers I'm seeing—they're completely unprecedented. Do you honestly think I would be this worried if I didn't have a good reason?''

He shook his head, moving closer to the tiny scientist and pulling her close against him. ''No. And I believe you to be one of the wisest people in this realm. I trust you above all others. So I will share in your concern.''

''Us too,'' said another voice. Jane and Thor looked up to see both Clint Barton and Steve Rogers enter the room.

''Look, Dr. Foster, I know that Fury seemed less than impressed with your theories, but I wasn't.'' Hawkeye gestured to the window. ''Have you looked outside? It's pretty unsettling. And I, for one, think that we should all spend a little less time worrying about who's drawing who naked and a little more time trying to figure out exactly what's going on with this freaky weather.''

Rogers nodded in agreement. Looking a little contrite, he added, ''And that was partially my fault. I should never have shown those sketches to Fury. It's just so easy to always make Loki the bad guy.'' Even as the Captain said this, he seemed to realize it for the first time. His expression fell even further, seeming now almost ashamed.

''My friends, thank you,'' Thor said, releasing Jane from his embrace and addressing the other two Avengers. ''Jane and I deeply appreciate your help. And it is alright, Steve. I too have taken many liberties with heaping blame onto my brother, even on those occasions when others might have been at least partially at fault. And I will have to live with that, and hope that one day, he will forgive me. But you are correct. Now, we must be concerned with these new developments. Jane-''

Jane, meanwhile had darted over to her desk and was flipping through what looked like star maps with an extremely panicked expression on her face. Shock and disbelief passed in turn over her like waves as she frantically pulled up a window on her computer, then another. Her fingers crashed against the keys, then stilled. ''No,'' she whispered. Then her voice rose. ''No, no, NO, that's not possible. There has to be a mistake, there has to!'' Her face was ashen.

''Jane, love, what's wrong?'' Thor hurried over to the astrophysicist's side. ''Please tell us—what is it?''

She took a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. ''Stars are disappearing. Rapidly, in fact, and in great number. Stars that we should always be able to observe very clearly from Earth. There's no explanation for this.''

''What about a black hole?'' asked Barton, quickly following Thor over to Jane's desk and picking up one of the charts, examining it with a frown. ''Couldn't that make stars disappear?''

''Absolutely, but there's no evidence of one. Theoretically, if there were one, I'd be able to tell where it was and how big by the stars orbiting around it. There's no indication of the presence of a black hole, the stars are just suddenly _gone_.'' She shook her head wildly. ''I must be missing something. As an scientist, I absolutely cannot accept this, even if it is what the data is showing. I have to go back over everything and check. I have to consult with my colleagues from Norway...''

''What can we do?'' asked Captain America, his jaw set with firm resolve.

''First, get me Dr. Banner,'' Jane ordered in a rush, throwing a threadbare sweater around her shoulders and rummaging through one of the stacks of paper that threatened to topple onto the floor. ''Maybe he'll be able to see something I can't. Then call everyone—and I mean _everyone_. I don't care whether Fury thinks this is a big deal or not-it is. And unless I'm completely wrong, unfortunately, soon we'll all realize that.''

Rogers nodded. ''Yes, Ma'am,'' he replied, turning to leave.

''Hey buddy, you ok?'' Hawkeye asked, head cocked to the side like a watchful bird, observing Thor's very troubled expression. The god of Thunder was now standing over by the window, looking out and up at the sky. ''I'm remembering something,'' he said.

* * *

''Wow...I would _not_ expect that from you,'' Natasha laughed, then smiled at the younger woman approvingly. ''Sounds like a 'game' I used to play in Budapest.'' Her eyes revealed that she was traveling back to a fond memory.

''I didn't expect it from myself, really, either, but something about him got to me, you know? It was like a fever.'' Darcy brushed her hair out of her eyes, before frowning and switching gears rapidly, launching into some sort of a pent-up tirade.

''Now I know that Fury said all that crap about Loki—and I know that like, Fury is supposed to be a 'good' guy,'' she made air quotes and rolled her eyes. Several shots of pure Russian vodka had left her more than a little buzzed and blurry.''But I seriously don't think he's all that_ good_, either. I mean, at the very least he _lies_ all the time. So, Loki wanted to rule everybody or whatever—which, I get it, that's like, not very nice.'' Her glasses slid down her face and she paused to push them back up.''Dictators are bad and stuff. I was a Political Science major, so I _know_.'' She banged the glass forcefully down on the wooden bar for emphasis. ''Anyways like, though, I remember this lecture in one of my classes about something called a 'nine king'-''

''—_Benign_ King.'' Natasha corrected, tossing back another shot of vodka.''Benign Tyrant, Benevolent Dictator. A lot of words that contradict each other.''

Darcy seriously wondered how the woman was still conscious. Maybe super-assassins had super-metabolisms, too.

''—Right, a 'benign king', sorry—I was kinda drifting off that day. I always wondered what the number nine had to do with anything—anyhows the benevolent dictator would rule everybody, but everyone would be super happy about it and love him and all because yeah, I mean, he'd totes be in _charge_, like the big boss, but he would only do what was best for all his subjects.'' Darcy set her empty glass down on its side and spun it.

''And you know as well as I do that that concept is very hypothetical. There's a reason why certain things are only political _theory_. It would never work in reality. We've all seen what happens when too much power is concentrated like that. And people don't just bow down and conform without a struggle. Everyone has a different idea about what's 'right'.'' Natasha paused, then added, ''And please don't use 'totes' in a sentence ever again. Or I may have to make you _very_ sorry.''

''Ok, ok. Got it. No more, I promise,'' Darcy held up her hands. ''And I agree with you, but what I'm mainly saying is that Fury, well, he's like a dictator in his own way. He rules people, sort of, doesn't he? He decides who gets to know what and when. I mean—we're not as free as we'd like to think we are, can't we just admit that?''

A very deep and thoughtful look burned across Natasha's beautiful face as she seemed to remember something. Then she smiled and shrugged. ''If that's true, then maybe we don't _want_ to admit it. Maybe it gives us peace to believe the lie.'' She turned her head slightly at the sound of approaching footsteps.

''Please tell me that you two have made out at some point this evening,'' came a familiar snarky voice from behind them. Darcy whirled around to see a wildly smiling and very tipsy Tony Stark leaning in support against a taller man. Then she looked closer, the other man's face came into view, and her heart stopped, but just for a second.

Natasha rolled her eyes. ''Grow up, Stark.''

''Never.'' The billionaire made a face at her and then looked at Darcy. ''Drinking with assassins are we now, Ms. Lewis? You're having quite the day. It must be very surreal. And on that note, I would like to introduce you to my friend, Loki Odinson.''

There he was, finally, less than a few feet from her. No glass and snow and government agency to separate them any longer. He looked almost afraid.

In what seemed like seconds, Tony and Natasha had slipped away, leaving them alone together. Darcy blinked. ''Hi,'' she said, because it seemed like the most appropriate thing. He was so much taller than she'd ever realized, there was definitely an aura of intensity swirling around him. Then she remembered that he was a god. ''I'm-''

''—Darcy,'' Loki finished for her. His voice made her shiver. It was wonderful. ''Darcy Lewis. I'm...glad to finally meet you. In person, that is,'' he added, with an awkwardness that seemed to contradict his imposing presence. Those eyes were even prettier up close, she noticed, and Darcy scrambled desperately to focus, because looking too deeply into them gave her that weird jolting, falling sensation that sometimes wakes you as you're drifting off to sleep.

''Loki,'' she sighed, almost with relief, ''You will not _believe_ the day I've had.''

He smiled and slid into the now-empty seat next to her. ''Likewise. And I'm very sorry.''

Darcy shook her head. ''Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. This morning, the only thing I could think about was trying to find out who you were. And I certainly found out. I guess you have quite the reputation.''

An ugly look passed over his face. ''You might say that,'' he said, voice darkening slightly.

She reached out and took hold of his arm and squeezed. ''I don't care. You can tell me your side of the story later. It's just very weird that you're really here.'' Darcy let go, then twisted around so that she could grab the sketch book that was lying face down on the bar. With a strange kind of shyness, she handed it to Loki. ''This is yours. And I really like your pictures, by the way.''

He accepted it with an unreadable expression, his eyes sending her spinning once again.

''Do you want to maybe start over with me?'' she asked. Darcy found herself alarmingly sober. All of the soft, buzzing edges of the vodka had disappeared, yet the words tumbled from her mouth with a loose, drunken ease. ''Before, you know, in the windows...well, I always told myself that we were playing a game. And then we weren't. It like...it got too real, all of a sudden, and maybe that was partially my fault, I mean, I did sort of move things a little _quickly_.'' Loki grinned in response, Darcy felt briefly naked again. ''But there's like this weird currant of electricity that gets to me when you're around,'' she continued, ''and...it's really not a game anymore. Now that we've met, can we start from the beginning?''

Loki was quiet for a moment, then he nodded.''We can start from anywhere you'd like.''

He looked as though he wanted to say something else to her, but was interrupted as Tony and Natasha reappeared as swiftly as they'd vanished, expressions a mix of concern and annoyance. ''Alright, kids, it looks like we're going to have to move this party back to SHIELD,'' Stark said, also looking much more sober than before, ''We've been _summoned._''

''Why?'' Darcy asked, mildly terrified of the answer. ''Is it Fury? Is he gonna fire me?''

Tony rolled his eyes. ''It's not _always_ about you, kiddo. It's your friend, Dr. Foster. Apparently she's got her science panties in a twist about something. The sky is falling...you know, the usual.'' He clapped his hands together. ''So let's go have a meeting. And then hopefully we'll be out in time for you two to have another_ art lesson_.''

Natasha sighed, folding her arms. ''Tony, leave them alone.''

''Where's the fun in that?''

* * *

As they filed out of the bar, Darcy was completely amazed by how bad the weather had gotten in a few hours. The sky was a violent shade of dark gray and snow was falling with a strangely urgent ferocity. The wind picked up, chilling her with a bone-rattling blast of icy air. Reflexively, she moved closer to Loki, who took hold of her arm.

''Tony, you weren't kidding,'' she called as they hurried to the waiting car. ''The sky really _is_ falling.''

Darcy slid into the back seat and Loki climbed in beside her. She shivered violently, pulling her gloves off and rubbing her hands together for warmth.

_''Baby, it's cold outside_...'' she sang in a low voice, trying to force her teeth to stop chattering.

Glancing over at Loki, she noticed that he didn't look the slightest bit uncomfortable. The frigid weather seemed to have virtually no effect; there was no shivering, no attempt at trying to get warm. Having thawed slightly once ducking inside the heated vehicle, Darcy had stopped shaking with cold and so she reached over and grabbed one of his hands. ''Holy crap, you're like _ice_,'' she yelped, taking his hand in between both of hers and rubbing frantically. ''You're gonna get frostbite or something! Why don't you wear gloves?'' She held his hand up to her mouth and breathed on it, in some strange attempt to create warmth that wound up seeming to Loki more erotic than therapeutic.

''I'm fine,'' he assured her. ''Darcy, really—it's...it's just the way I am.''

She paused, her lips still almost touching his fingers. ''Ok,'' she whispered, and her words sent a shuddering jolt of friction through his body. Darcy released her grip on his hand and it fell away.

**A/N I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! Thank you so much for your feedback and support! You guys have such a great energy—it makes me very happy. =) Also I need to cite/thank Google for providing info on black holes and also a really sweet book called **_**Norse Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs**_** by John Lindow, which provided info needed for this and upcoming chapters. Stay tuned!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Hello everyone! I hope you all had safe and happy holidays! I'm sorry about the gap in updates, I know I left you guys with a cliffhanger before! I had some very sad times recently: my wonderful grandma, who helped to raise me, recently passed away. She was the one who always encouraged me to write, since my first poem in the second grade. So I decided that the best way to honor her memory was just to keep writing. (And it helps to keep the sadness away, too.)Here is a new chapter for you. Hold onto your hats! There _is_ a method to my madness, I promise you! Please, please review, no matter what you think. Or just drop in and say hi. =) Constructive criticism is always welcomed and carefully considered. I love you all and think you are wonderful.**

* * *

_**Good fences make good neighbors**_

_ -_**Robert Frost**

* * *

Neither Darcy nor anyone else said much as they returned to SHIELD headquarters. The wind was tossing the snow so violently that every gust stung and tore at their faces as they darted into the warm, bright lobby of the building. There didn't seem to be too many other people around, it was later in the evening now and much of the regular staff had gone home. However, once they got onto the elevator and reached the upper levels, it was another story entirely.

There was a palpable tension hanging all around like an aura. Everyone they passed looked rather harried and grim-faced. As the four reached the door to Jane Foster's lab, Darcy hesitated, standing still. The snow was melting off of her shoes and creating a small puddle around her feet. ''Should—should I be here, too?'' she asked, fidgeting slightly. ''I can wait here if you guys want, if this is some kind of 'special' meeting.''

''You're not getting away that easy, I'm afraid,'' Tony replied, sliding his key card along a slot in the door. ''We can discuss changing your status with Fury later, but for the time being I'd say you've been unofficially bumped up the ladder here. Besides, you and Dr. Foster are pals, right? I'm sure you've seen her overreact before, it should be nothing new.'' The door swung open.

Something big _did_ indeed seem to be going on, Darcy realized, judging by the group that had collected inside the lab. Bruce Banner was seated in front of a screen at a work station in the far corner, frowning, scrolling through what looked liked miles and miles of mathematical calculations. Clint Barton scowled at a map. Thor appeared to be deeper in thought than Darcy had ever seen him, staring out the window with a troubled and far away expression on his face. And Jane probably hadn't eaten or rested in hours, her face was tight with worry, her body stretched tensely like an elastic band about to be snapped as she paced back and forth, coffee cup in hand. They all paused when they heard the door open, and looked up.

''Tony—hey, thanks for-'' Jane began and then stopped as soon as she saw Darcy standing beside Loki. Her expression morphed into aggravated disbelief. ''Please tell me it's not true!'' the scientist demanded, setting her coffee down on a desk and crossing her arms. Over at the window, Thor turned around and got to his feet, trying to hide the small smile that briefly flickered across his face as he stood to greet them. ''Thank you for coming, my friends. Hello, brother.''

Loki scowled and remained silent. His body seemed to radiate annoyance, his gaze iced itself over. Everything about his presence screamed that he didn't want to be there. The change in demeanor was almost staggering. It made Darcy dizzy. She shivered, getting now the briefest glimpse into the side of Loki that people seemed to be so wary of. Still beautiful, but so very cold, very empty. A shadow slid around in his eyes, a flicker of something that Darcy couldn't define. Then he seemed to gain some control of himself; he blinked, and the shadow passed away, but he still didn't speak. Darcy let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding.

Jane was shaking her head almost violently. ''I don't want to believe this. Darcy—I'm so...'' She couldn't get the word out. Disappointed? Angry? Disgusted? Mentally, Darcy attempted to fill in the blanks. Inwardly, she cringed, seeing the disapproval painted vividly on her friend's face.

''There will be time to discuss personal matters at a later date, Jane,'' Thor reminded her gently. ''We have far more important things to deal with, presently.''

Jane wearily collected her thoughts and then began to speak. ''Yes. Well, I have asked that you all come for this meeting because it seems that we have an unprecedented catastrophe on our hands.'' She gestured to a large screen mounted on the wall, showing what looked like a global weather map. ''The largest storm system ever on record is now heading right for us.'' She pointed to the window, where the snow and wind still howled like hell. ''This is only the warm-up. And it's not just here, it's everywhere. Temperatures are dropping rapidly all over the globe. Water levels,'' she tapped the screen and a new chart appeared, ''are rising at an alarming rate, and I can't seem to find any logical explanation for the speed. It should take thousands of years for this kind of change, yet it's been escalating steadily over the past few months with a particular increase in just the last couple of weeks. And unfortunately, there's more. Volcanic activity has seen a marked increase, particularly in Iceland.''

''There are a lot of volcanoes in Iceland,'' Stark interrupted. Though the billionaire's expression was serious, he seemed to be clinging to his trademark cynicism. ''And I'm sure that it's not at all uncommon for one or two of them to experience some activity-''

''All of them.'' Jane cut back in, her voice sharp and heavy. ''Not one or two of them. _All of them_ are showing activity, and I'm not talking about a few minor quakes. As you said, there are a lot of volcanoes in Iceland. Can you imagine the devastation if they all experienced an eruption? And just wait, because there's more. Whole constellations of stars are vanishing. No, Mr. Stark, before you say anything, it's _not_ an equipment malfunction. It's _not_ a black hole. They're just gone. My data has been confirmed by scientists at at least two other observatories so far, and nobody can even begin to explain why or how this is happening. So you see, we have a very large problem.''

''Where's Fury?'' asked Natasha. The assassin's face was absolutely devoid of expression, but Darcy noticed that she had gone very pale.

''The Captain went to check. Last I knew, he was still in his office. He said he had a headache.'' Jane retrieved her coffee cup from the table and sighed. ''That makes two of us.''

Clint scoffed. ''It must be one hell of a headache. Fury once gave a meeting with three cracked ribs and a broken jaw without breaking a sweat.''

''Look, I don't really have the authority to do anything,'' admitted Jane. The scientist's nerves were like tattered ribbons, and she tried with flailing desperation now to keep her voice even, though she wanted nothing more than to crumple to the floor in a heap and scream and scream and scream. ''I technically don't even have the authority to call this meeting, so everything here is off the record. But I've been throwing this data at Fury for days, as the rest of you know, and nothing's been done or decided. It's all, 'thank you Dr. Foster, let's wait and see.' We don't have time to wait and see!'' Her eyes darted to the large screen and then out the window and back again with weary helplessness. She regressed for a moment, seeming to become smaller, childlike. ''We might not have time for anything.''

Darcy reached out her hand and held onto Loki's pale, icy fingers. The contact was sobering, and seemed to steady her. All of the thoughts had stilled inside of her mind, put on pause as her mental faculties worked to process Jane's words in some sort of coherent way. They could not, and so everything simply blanked itself out and became a persistent hum in the back of her skull. Temporarily mute and numb, she could do nothing but stand there clutching the hand of a god until some sort of survival instinct kicked in and she became useful and human again.

''Friends, if I may,'' Thor began in his deep voice, and everyone looked up. ''There is a legend, or a prophecy rather, where Loki and I come from. It predicts almost exactly the events which we now seem to be facing.''

''That is a _story_, drivel, the mad words of an ancient and withered old crone starving for attention.'' Loki spoke up, his voice like a slap, cold and hard. ''Let's not complicate the situation with myth.''

''Loki, can you truly believe that?'' asked Thor, rather sadly. ''Look at all of the facts we now have. The seers words are coming to pass.''

''If that's true,'' Loki snarled, ''then not only is Midgard doomed, but each of the nine realms will suffer a similar fate. It will be the very end of the entire cosmos, and you know as well as I that there would be nothing that you or I or anyone could do about it.''

Darcy closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to believe that she was back in her apartment, having a very strange dream, about to wake up. It didn't happen. She opened her eyes and once again saw a room full of heroes and friends, found herself still clutching the icy hand of a villain, not wanting to let go. _It will be the very end_. She shivered.

''We can fight,'' the god of Thunder offered firmly.

Loki chuckled, and the sound was rather like sandpaper, rough and mean and ugly. ''Always your first solution, brother. Well, yes, we certainly _can_ fight, just as the seer foretold, but we will all _lose_. We will all die.''

''Back it up!'' Tony Stark practically shouted this, his words like bullets. The two gods turned to face him. ''You two. Witholding information. Vital information. Spill, now.'' Any trace of cynicism vaporized from his face and now he was full of a wild, determined anger. He looked formidable.

All eyes in the room fixed on the two Asgardians, awaiting a response. Thor cleared his throat, then began. ''Long ago, a prophecy was given about the end of time. The worlds would become corrupt, people would turn on each other. Chaos and violence would reign. An endless winter would cover everything. There were tales of a great serpent, writhing under the seas, causing the water to rise. A wolf would swallow the stars, leaving everything in darkness. The rainbow bridge would be destroyed, and all the gods would gather for a final battle, which none would survive.''

''You're talking about Ragnarok,'' said Jane, rubbing her temples with her fingers. ''And I hate more than anything to agree with Loki, but I can't accept an ancient myth as an explanation for what's going on here. Many cultures have the same sort of story, they're meant to be a kind of metaphor rather than a summary of actual events.''

''True, but maybe we just need to interpret the metaphors a little better.'' Clint offered. He tapped the screen on his tablet a few times and then continued. ''I've heard that myth too, most of us here have, especially thanks to those hideous Wagner operas.'' He shuddered. ''Anyway, it says here that the big serpent, the once causing the oceans to rise, is Loki's son. Hey Loki, you have any snake children?''

''I most certainly do not. That's a repulsive suggestion.'' The god looked mildly insulted.

''And I'm sure that Thor would have mentioned being the proud uncle of a ginormous reptile,'' added Clint. He looked down at the screen again. ''Or a huge _wolf._ Damn, Loki.''

''I assure you, my brother does not have any offspring, animal or otherwise,'' Thor stated firmly.

''Thank you for clearing that up, brother.'' Loki rolled his eyes rather meanly and stared at the ceiling.

''Over the centuries, obviously, our legends may have been mistranslated as they found their way to Midgard. But the bulk of the material still remains the same, and everything that the prophecy said is coming to pass, now,'' insisted the Thunder god. He didn't seem to want to believe any of it, either, yet seemed to accept everything with a strange, almost noble fatalism.

''Ok. Great. But what if it's just a coincidence?'' Tony Stark was _not_ a man prone to fatalism. He spoke up now, still looking stern and exasperated. ''Winter and rising seas and all—it's pretty vague. And I don't have enough concrete information. I want something more to go on besides an ancient myth. And even if we were to believe that, you guys said yourselves, part of it is wrong already. So how can we possibly use that as a guide? We need to look at other scenarios, more plausible ones.''

''You mean scenarios in which we actually have _options_, right?'' Natasha's face was still unreadable and colorless.

''We _always_ have options,'' Tony said firmly. ''Some are just easier than others.'' He tapped his foot in thought for a moment. ''We know for a fact that we have some pretty freaky and powerful enemies, both on this planet and otherwise. Why don't we first try to put together some kind of profile and figure out who or what especially hates us right now and has the ability to pull off something like this?''

''I think that I should go to Asgard immediately and speak with my father,'' said Thor. ''If the prophecy is coming to pass, he will know about it.''

''I don't think it's such a good idea for you to _leave_ just yet-'' Jane began, her voice rising..

''Where the_ hell_ is Fury!'' Stark loudly demanded of the entire room.

''He's been taken to the hospital,'' spoke a sudden, commanding voice from the doorway. They all quieted and turned to see Steve Rogers standing there, looking tired and worried. ''Very discreetly, just a short time ago. He seems to have suffered some kind of a stroke, we're not sure yet.''

''So it _was_ one hell of a headache,'' Clint mumbled softly.

''Is he going to be alright?'' asked Jane, clutching the edges of the desk for support.

''As I said, the doctors need to run some tests before they know for certain. Until then, I'll be filling in temporarily as Director. Normally, the chain of command would have fallen to Agent Coulson first, but as he is...no longer with us, I am now in charge until Fury is well.'' He looked around the room. ''Since everyone is assembled here and looking very grim, I can only assume that Dr. Foster has filled you all in on the situation we're now facing?''

''Steve, you're in charge now, so you need to be the voice of reason.'' Tony Stark's voice had taken on an uncharacteristically pleading tone. ''Don't fail me. I'm hearing apocalyptic weather reports, Iceland is apparently about to go by way of Atlantis, and Prospero and Antonio over here are telling us that some kind of ancient myth is suddenly coming true. Please help us figure out something constructive!''

''_The Tempest_? Really?'' muttered Darcy under her breath. Nobody heard her, except Loki. He smiled thinly.

''I don't understand any of this any more than you do, Tony,'' Steve admitted. ''I can't be the voice of reason until I can see a _reasonable_ course of action. We're all just going to have to take one thing at a time and try our best. And I don't think that right now we have the luxury to dismiss information as 'myth' because it's more comfortable for us. Right now, myth is all we have to go on.'' He sighed, then continued, ''I agree that Thor should go to Asgard and see if his father can offer us any help. For right now, the rest of us are going to stay put. Barton and Natasha, you'll be helping me to keep peace in the city. People have begun to panic already because of the storm, and it's only going to get worse. Stark and Banner, help Dr. Foster. Do some more research into these old stories and see if there's anything that we might be missing. Keep tracking the progression of the...events.''

It wasn't what anyone wanted to hear, but it was all that could be offered at the moment. Nobody protested, though Stark looked as though he wanted to. Natasha and Clint followed the Captain as he turned and left the room. Banner, still silent, went back to rechecking his miles of equations as they poured by on the screen, his jaw set in a firm line, eyes like stone. And Darcy just stood there beside Loki, both of them seemingly either forgotten or ignored. But only for an instant.

Jane eyed the two of them, then walked over to stand directly in front of Loki. Her face was a pale mask of fear and rage. She paused for a fraction of a second, then raised her hand, reached up, and struck him across the face as hard as she could. Darcy gasped and jumped back, yet still their hands remained joined. Thor leapt to his feet. ''Jane, you're upset, I understand, but I don't think that now-''

''Yes, _now. Now_! When am I going to have time again?'' She narrowed her eyes at Loki, who stood absolutely still. ''You,'' she began in a deathly quiet voice, ''are a menace. You are a poison. You are a selfish monster and you cause nothing but pain and chaos wherever you go.'' Jane glanced briefly at Darcy and then back to the god. ''Your brother may have forgiven you, despite all the hell that you put him through, and you may have been able to fool a few people with your pitiful, repenting act but_ I don't buy it_. I don't think that you're sorry about anything. What's more, I think that you're secretly jumping for joy about all of this. You must be. You caused it, after all. I know the story, inside and out. And I know that in the end, you don't fight on our side. But what really makes me sick is that you've poisoned Darcy's mind, made her believe that you're something that you're not.''

''I'm not being _poisoned_!'' Darcy yelled. The volume of her own voice startled her, and she continued on more softly. ''My mind is exactly the same as it always was. He hasn't _done_ anything to me. It's _me_. Jane, I made a choice.''

A second passed that felt like a thousand years. ''If that's the case,'' Jane said quietly, ''then I'm very disappointed in you.''

Darcy felt as if she'd been slapped as well. The scientist turned away to walk back over to her desk when she stopped suddenly and put a hand to her head. Then she crumpled, falling. Thor rushed and caught her before she could hit the floor. ''Jane, what's wrong?'' he asked in a frightened voice.

''I don't...I don't know, I just feel so strange all of a sudden.'' She looked weak and confused, her eyes seemed to roll to the side, her arms went slack.

''Jesus Christ, what _next_?'' Tony Stark reached for his phone. ''I'll call an ambulance.''

Bruce Banner had now gotten up and darted across the room, he was kneeling beside Jane and taking her pulse. ''No, wait. There's a lab with medical equipment one floor down. Thor, please take her there. I think I have an idea about what might be going on, but I need to run some tests. Everyone else just stay put and keep doing...whatever you were doing.''

Thor hoisted Jane into his arms and carried her away hurriedly. Banner ran back to the desk where he had been working, grabbed his tablet, and then rushed after them.

_This is not happening._ Darcy felt her hand fall away from Loki's. Her body was numb once again, her mind blanked, became a hollow vessel. Then out of the emptiness she heard an echoing sound, steady, like water dripping from a broken faucet. It was the sound of her own heart beating.

Feeling began to resume, unwelcome. Then, strangely, she found that she was talking. ''I thought this was a love story,'' she said. Her words made no sense to her, and they were very quiet.

Wanting desperately to cry, but finding that tears refused to come, Darcy walked with leaden feet over to the window and looked out at the snow.

* * *

**Two Hours Later**

Neither Thor, Banner, or Jane had yet returned. And Tony Stark had vanished into the corridor with his cell phone soon after they'd rushed to the medical lab. Darcy now sat cross-legged underneath one of the desks with her laptop, reading everything the internet could possibly tell her about Ragnarok and chewing on her fingernails. She'd chewed them down to bloody skin.

She heard a voice sigh, saw long legs approach. Loki knelt down and peered under the desk at her. ''Please come out of there. It can't be comfortable.''

''No,'' said Darcy stubbornly. ''I'm doing research.'' She knew somehow that it was in vain, but it gave her something to focus on.

''Under a desk?'' Loki's voice was both doubtful and mildly amused.

''Yes,'' she replied. ''It helps me think.'' It was actually a childhood habit that she'd suddenly found herself regressing back to. Every time that she'd been frightened, or if there was, say, a big storm, Darcy had always built a fort underneath a desk or table and barricaded herself in with flashlights, blankets, and books.

Then, hesitantly, she asked in a soft voice that shook, ''Did you...I mean, I'm not saying that you did it on purpose or anything, but did you maybe...accidentally...hurt Jane and Director Fury?'' It was a thought that she hadn't wanted to entertain, but one that kept twitching in her mind.

Quick as lightning, a long-fingered hand grabbed hold of Darcy's ankle, dragging her gently but forcefully out before she had a moment to protest. Then Loki wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, setting her down on top of the desk so that they were facing each other at nearly eye level. His pale face was stern, eyes blazing coldly.

''You know as well as I do that I did no such thing. And even if I were so inclined to, I couldn't. Odin bound the majority of my abilities. As I assume Banner has now realized, Jane and Fury are getting sick because the very fabric of reality is crumbling, tearing apart at the seams like worn cloth. _They are going to go mad_. And eventually, so is every other creature in this realm, and then the rest. It's simply happening to them more quickly since they've been so closely tied into the events.'' His words were like icy slashes against her skin. They burned.

''I oughta slap you too!'' Darcy said. She was crying again, but it didn't help anything, just made the world even more blurred. ''I thought that you said before that it was all just a story! _Drivel_, or whatever you called it.''

Loki took hold of her shaking shoulders and held her still so that she looked directly at him. That falling feeling had her in its grip once more, but for some reason, she felt suddenly, disturbingly calmer.

''It _is_ just a story, but with a few true parts. Yes, events have been set in motion, but not following the predicted course. It hasn't occurred naturally, or at the proper time. Ragnarok was supposed to wipe the slate clean, so to speak. A new beginning would spring from the ashes left behind by the destruction.'' He chuckled as if he found the notion slightly ridiculous, then continued. ''It was to happen at a moment that Asgardians would all know by certain signs. And then we would be sure that it was time to accept our fate and go merrily to our doom in a glorious final battle. _This is not that_. This is synthetic, accidental. Thor destroyed the Bridge to prevent me from doing something rash. And then I further weakened Yggdrasil by using the Tesseract. We kept tearing holes in a fragile fabric until it became more and more unstable. SHIELD, Jane, and all those experiments continued to wear it away. This isn't some mythical ending, some grand death and rebirth. This is something we _did_. And that means that there may still be a chance to do something about it. I don't want to die any more than you do.''

''What _could_ we do?'' Darcy asked, blinking at him. The tears had stopped flowing and now she was simply fearful and confused once again.

''I hate to say this, but Thor was correct about going to Asgard. The Allfather must have realized by now that this is not Ragnarok. Therefore, he is far less likely to accept his doom. And he will do everything in his power to prevent the destruction of the realms.''

''But in the meantime, we just sit here and wait to go insane? I can't do that! Loki...I'm so damn scared. I can't lose my mind!'' Darcy felt herself once again on the borders of hysteria. She could barely breathe, her chest was so constricted with terror. She prayed that numbness would once again sweep over her.

Loki tightened his grip on her shoulders. ''I won't let you lose your mind. I'll keep you safe, no matter what it takes.''

Darcy wriggled away from him and jumped down from the desk. She paced across the carpet. ''I want to believe you,'' she said, with her back to him. ''I'm sorry. And I do, I think. Believe you, trust you, whatever. I don't care what Jane said...I just...I somehow know that you _are_ sorry. It's like, be careful what you wish for, I guess.'' She laughed with a bitterness that was like an earthquake, overwhelming in its strength. ''I wanted so much to find out who you were. I thought maybe, you know, we could be...friends. Since we seemed to get along so well through windows and all. But maybe some things aren't meant to be touched. Maybe we were supposed to have been only that way, perfect strangers, good neighbors. But when I found you, I found the end of the world. I guess that's what I get for being so...adventurous.''

He was standing right behind her now, she could feel him. He grabbed her shoulders again and spun her around. There were those eyes again, so cold, bright, lovely. It was like looking into the sun. Everyone always told her no, and Darcy always said _but why, why can't I look, it's so pretty_...

''I'm never going to be any kind of hero, not in any story, not in any prophecy. The best I can hope for is that I might be remembered as ambiguous. But _you_,'' he said, and the word sent tremors all along her skin, ''_you_ are good. And you are beautiful. Jane was right about one thing, I _am_ selfish. I _want_. And you were the first person to ever want me. I could see it in your eyes, in every movement. Even if we were supposed to have stayed separated by glass, even if I knew for certain that to break down those boundaries would have catastrophic consequences, I am not sorry that it happened. Because I'm selfish and I want to touch you.''

They were perilously close now. ''All this science,'' he continued, his voice like rain landing on her body, ''This belief is a universe that can be quantified, understood, and therefore controlled. _No_. It's as absurd a notion as any myth. To understand this world, any world, is to know chaos. And to accept it, to _let it in_. Let it wash over you without the need to rationalize. It's like lust, or love. It comes in waves, knocking you down, dazing you. It possesses you, it directs you. Your actions and emotions become inexplicable. You might even forget who you are. It's all chaos. And it devours. It's _selfish_. It _wants_.'' His breath was so cold against her skin, dangerously, chillingly erotic. His hands were around her waist now, strangely hesitant, not sure where to go.

''You're so warm,'' he murmured.


	8. Chapter 8

Darcy was dreaming. It was a nice dream. The world wasn't ending, there was no snow. Everything was quiet and ordinary. Loki was with her, but he wasn't a god, just a man with beautiful eyes and long fingers. He smiled a lot. He also had a guitar, for some reason, and he sang a Bob Dylan song for her. She sang along with him and put her head on his shoulder and didn't ever want to wake up.

* * *

''What's that noise?'' asked Bruce Banner as he returned to the room where Loki and Darcy were still waiting. It had been over three hours since he and Thor had taken Jane to the medical lab. Now, the doctor seemed to have some answers, but not happy ones. He looked drawn and drained.

Loki gestured over towards the corner of the room, where Darcy was curled up on a large chair, eyes closed, a weird half-smile on her face. ''She's singing in her sleep.''

''Well, at least one of us is getting some rest,'' Banner said, then lowered his voice and added ''I, uh, finished running just about every test on Jane that I can think of. EEG, MRI, PET scan, you name it. Her mental state is deteriorating rapidly. And I'll bet you anything that they've come to the same conclusion about Fury. I'm sure that you already know this, you seem to understand it a little more than your brother. But she's fading fast, and it won't be long before the rest of us start exhibiting symptoms, too. Best I can guess is that we have a few days, give or take.'' He looked across the room and out the window, out at that ominous sky.

''No. _They_ have a few days. You, me, and Thor-we have a little longer, given our...particular natures,'' Loki explained. ''Your large, green alter ego seems to be very fond of self-preservation, so he might actually be a great benefit to you. Possibly Stark will take longer to succumb as well, because his reactor will stabilize him and slow the process.''

''What are you thinking?'' Banner asked curiously. ''You have some ideas, I can tell.''

Loki shrugged.''Nothing overly helpful. But I am certainly thinking that Thor needs to go to Asgard as soon as possible. And...he needs to ask Odin to give us asylum. Much as I hate to beg for the Allfather's mercy,'' the god's features twisted into an ugly expression at the thought, ''Midgard will be the first realm to tumble, and Asgard the last. Therefore, if we take Jane and Darcy there, they'll be safer while we figure out what to do. Some of the damage that's already been done to Jane may even temporarily reverse itself.''

The stoic scientist shook his head. ''You really think that there's any chance of stopping this?And what about everyone else?''

Loki didn't answer for a moment. Then he responded slowly, ''Right now...I don't care about everyone else.'' He stared back across the room, watching Darcy.

Bruce followed his eyes over to where she was laying in the chair, still dreaming and mumbling-singing. ''Well, that's certainly a little _cold_, but I guess I have to appreciate your honesty at least. Funny little thing, isn't she?'' A smile ghosted weakly over his face and then was gone. ''I'm gonna fill the rest of the team in and then call the hospital and get an update on Fury's condition. Also, I need to see if anyone else has been brought in showing similar symptoms. Hopefully this...syndrome hasn't reached the general population yet.'' He ran a hand through his dark hair, sighed wearily, then disappeared back into the hallway.

After a moment, Loki got to his feet slowly and walked over to Darcy, kneeling down beside her. Her glasses lay crookedly across her face, her hair was a long, wavy tumble fanned out across her shoulders. Her full lips were still very nearly smiling. ''_...blame it on a simple twist of fate.._'' she murmured tunelessly.

''Indeed,'' Loki muttered wryly in response and reached out a hand, tracing his fingers down the side of her face, momentarily relishing in the soft warmth of her skin; he'd become almost addicted to touching her. She shivered slightly at the contact, then stirred and blinked herself awake.

She stretched and twitched, struggled up out of her dream. Coherency returned. ''Oh,'' she said when she saw him, the foggy sheen of sleep fading away from her eyes.

''You seem disappointed.'' Loki's voice was slightly more hurt-sounding than he would have liked.

''No, no, not disappointed. Not about seeing you, anyway. I was dreaming about you.'' She shifted, sitting up straighter. ''I need coffee. Lots of coffee. How's Jane?''

''Not well,'' Loki replied honestly. ''Banner ran all kinds of tests. It's as I told you before, her grip on reality is failing. Her mind can't process the energetic shifts as the cosmos essentially begins to tear itself apart...you were dreaming about me?'' He sounded both surprised and pleased at this bit of information.

Darcy's face crumpled slightly at the news of her friend's prognosis. She put her head in her hands. ''Yes, I was. You were singing. I want to go back to _sleep._''

Loki smiled. He leaned his head down closer to hers and whispered ''There will be plenty of time for sleeping later, I promise. Right now, there's something that I have to discuss with you.''

She raised her head and eyed him curiously. ''What is it?''

''I want to help you,'' he explained. Their faces were very close, he still spoke in a whisper, though they were the only two people in the room. ''Thor is going to Asgard to ask for Odin's help. I'm hoping that he will grant some of us permission to stay there until we have some sort of solution to this...problem. If the Allfather agrees, then you and Jane will most certainly be going. Her mind may briefly recover there, and you will be far safer from any ill effects as well. But in the meantime, I don't want to take any chances. Thor and I will be fine, our minds will be able to withstand the shifts up until the very end, but because you are mortal, even on Asgard you may begin to show signs as Yggdrasil continues to crumble. I don't have the ability to influence another person's mind, as I told you before, but I believe that I can link your consciousness with mine, _if _you allow me. Once the link is formed, I can keep you from...losing your mind, as you so fear.''

Darcy considered this for a moment. Mind-melding sounded a little dangerous. And alarmingly intimate. ''Will we be able to un-link?'' she wondered. ''I mean, best-case scenario, if the world doesn't end and everything becomes magically ok again, can the connection be broken?''

''Yes, best-case scenario, we will be able to break the connection without any problems. But I must tell you, I have never done this before, and at present I don't have the full extent of my abilities. I can't be absolutely certain that it will work, but it's all I have to offer at this point.''

''Give me some time to think about it,'' whispered Darcy. She really needed to move. They were still too near each other, and she was beginning to feel an overwhelming desire to pull him even closer. Loki seemed to feel the same way. His eyes darkened slightly, he reached out and threaded his fingers through her hair.

There were footsteps and a slight knock. Banner returned to the room, pausing in the doorway. He took a few steps back once he saw how close together they were, looking slightly embarrassed. ''Um...sorry to interrupt...but Thor's about to leave. Loki, he wants to speak with you for a minute. Darcy, Jane's resting as comfortably as possible; if you would like to visit her, now would be a good time.''

They broke away from each other with what seemed like a crack of electricity. Loki stood, Darcy got up off of the chair, adjusting her sleep-wrinkled clothes and pushing back her messy tangle of long hair. Her heart was hammering almost painfully against her rib cage. ''Let's go.''

* * *

The medical lab had an adjoining room with a bed, where Jane Foster lay still and pale. Machines hummed around her, wires protruded from electrodes that had been stuck all over her scalp. Thor was beside her, holding her hand, his features heavy with worry.

''She has intermittent periods of lucidity when she appears to be perfectly coherent, but then she lapses back into a kind of delirium, punctuated by strange, brief episodes of what seems to be REM sleep, except that she's technically still awake when they occur.'' Banner explained. ''I have her on some very heavy antipsychotic medication to try and keep her fairly stable. I may even try some anti-seizure drugs to dull the random electrical impulses that seem to be popping up out of nowhere and wreaking havoc in her brain, but there's no telling if that will work. At this point in time, the coherent states are lasting longer than the delirium, but within a couple of days this will change and eventually her entire reticular formation will become so damaged that-''

''I get it, Dr. Banner, thank you,'' Darcy snapped tensely. An apologetic expression then overtook her features, mingling with grief. ''I'm sorry, I'm just-''

Banner held up a hand. ''I know,'' the doctor said softly, nodding. Then he turned and walked over to a further corner of the room, lost himself again in quiet calculations and thought.

Thor hesitantly let go of Jane's hand as he took note of their arrival. ''Brother, we must speak,'' he said to Loki, who nodded, and the two gods silently left the room.

Darcy carefully stepped over to where her friend was lying. Jane's eyelids fluttered open, and she looked momentarily disoriented before noticing her friend standing there. ''Darcy?''

''Yeah, Jane, it's me,'' she whispered, trying to keep her voice even and not betray the fact that she was about to cry.

''I'm sorry about earlier, when I said I was disappointed in you. I didn't mean it. I just...I just hate the thought of you with him. He's done so many terrible things, Darcy. I don't want to see you get hurt. I guess I was just being overprotective.''

''Don't worry about it,'' Darcy replied, trying to sound casual. ''It doesn't matter anyway, now. How do you feel?''

Jane thought for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was sluggish. ''I feel so...heavy, now. I guess that's because of all the medicine that Bruce gave me. Luckily, he knows a lot about...trying to keep crazy at bay.'' She laughed weakly. Then the light smile died away from her face and a very strange, far-away look replaced it. ''Sometimes, though, I feel...almost like something is trying to pull me into a dream. And it seems so real that for a second I'm not sure where I belong. Here or the dream.'' Her voice changed slightly as well, sounding airy and ethereal. ''Everything gets really...confusing and jumbled up. But then it's like, I try to pull myself back. I remind myself of who I am and what I need to be doing...and then I'm ok for awhile. It all just happened so fast. I thought I just had a bad headache from all the stress. Then the headache mutated and grew teeth.''

She paused, her eyes steadying themselves, blinking the clouds away. The disturbing, otherworldy quality left her voice, but Jane still seemed now to be visibly afraid. ''But the scariest thing is, Darce,'' she added, ''...when I feel myself start to get pulled into that dream, for just a second, I want to let go. I want to stay there. But I can't want that because then I'll get lost there and be gone for good.'' Then the weight of all the medication overtook her again and her eyelids fell closed.

The door to the room opened once more as the two Asgardians returned. Neither one looked particularly happy, obviously, but it seemed that they had at least been able to agree on something. Loki paused, hanging back in the hallway, waiting. Thor's heavy footsteps echoed as he crossed the floor to Jane's bed.

She flickered in and out of consciousness now, like a candle flame stuttering in the wind. ''My love,'' Thor whispered to her gently, ''I need to leave now, but I will only be gone for a very short while.''

Jane struggled to say something, eyelids fluttering open and closed. Her voice slipped into that weird echoey cadence again and she whispered, ''Please come back soon.''

Darcy wished that she could scream with frustration but nothing came. She seemed to feel her limbs go numb and it was almost a relief. She heard Thor's choked voice whisper good-bye to Jane, watched him press a kiss against her forehead and then leave with a great, pained reluctance.

Wondering how long it would be before she too succumbed and faded out, blinking on and off again like a faulty light bulb, Darcy realized that it _was_ almost an attractive option. She recalled her own earlier, vivd dream and how much she'd wanted to stay. But no. Something stubborn had taken deep root inside of her, and it had adamantly chosen survival. It raged with the desire to live, to remain intact, even if that meant staring down the end of time.

Darcy focused herself, used some sort of emotional alchemy to transform her grief and terror into a bright, wild energy. She leaned down by Jane's ear and whispered,''Thor's coming back, and then we're going on a trip. You'll be better soon, I promise. I love you, Jane.''

Tears brutally stung her eyes, but she forced them away. Turning from her friend, she headed out into the corridor where Loki stood like a weathered statue. ''I've made my decision,'' she said.

* * *

The two shut themselves in the office again, sat down on the floor facing one another. Darcy's stomach fluttered with anxiety. Loki looked rather anxious, too. ''I want you to understand,'' he explained to her, ''that this is going to be a little difficult at first. Your mind will instinctively resist the connection and try to push me out. But it is voluntary. And it goes both ways. You will be able to see into my mind, if you choose.'' He drew in a breath. ''Are you ready?'' he asked quietly.

''Don't you have to put your hands on my head or something?'' she wondered. Loki looked at her curiously, raising an eyebrow. ''Do you want me to?'' Darcy nodded. He smiled lightly and obliged her, gently cupping her face in his cool hands, a gesture that she found incredibly comforting. She closed her eyes, trying her best to relax. For a moment, there was nothing. Then she felt something crash against the edge of her consciousness like a wave and immediately tensed. It retreated.

''I told you, it's going to feel strange. Please, try to relax as best you can. This won't work if you don't trust me.''

''Ok, ok, I'll try,'' she sighed in frustration. Drawing a deep breath into her lungs, Darcy slowly unwound the tension in her mind, letting it empty and open, focused on the calming sensation of his hands against her face. She visualized herself back in her apartment, standing naked by the window while the snow fell outside. The world was not ending, there was nothing to fear. Loki was once again in the opposite window, a tall, beautiful man with shimmering green eyes and a wicked smile that heated her blood. A breath, in and out. He raised a hand and knocked on the window. Pausing, he pressed his palm against the glass, long fingers splayed out. _Knock, knock._

It felt as though the edges of her mind were elastic and malleable, being tugged at ever so slightly. It wasn't unpleasant at all now, just different. _Knock, knock. _Slightly more insistent now, pulling at her in waves that were becoming increasingly more and more intense, but not bad, not painful. Not at all. In fact, Darcy found that she almost enjoyed it.

Those glass windows and wild flakes of snow were getting in the way. He was still too far. _Come in_, she said, and for a brief moment there was a flare of hesitation as she heard the memory of Jane's voice seem to echo from far away, warning her. Darcy let it pass, she'd gone too far now, and in any case, what did it matter, anymore? _Come in_.

Then there were no windows, there was no snow. He was right next to her, his fingers were pressed against the sides of her face, so close, so very close. One small thread of hesitation remained in her, feebly clinging, and Darcy forced it to break and then it happened.

She'd never before realized that her mind was so small, her gaze so narrow and limited. She gasped as his consciousness linked with hers, and she drew in ragged breaths, mouthfuls of air as though she'd been deprived. Everything was so much brighter, more defined. All of the earlier, frightening blurriness she'd been feeling and fearing earlier in the day was gone and she felt strong. She felt like she could see for miles and miles. The translucent boundaries of his mind were visible to her, but she didn't want to trespass. She could almost see a kind of shimmering cord, a link connecting them both. It was beautiful.

_You're safe now, I'm here_. She heard the words and felt them at the same time.

''It worked,'' Darcy breathed, opening her eyes.

''Yes,'' he said with a sigh of relief. ''It worked.'' Loki's hands were still against her face. He smiled at her. ''I've never really been this close to anyone before,'' he admitted.

''Neither have I, obviously,'' she said, returning the smile. ''I don't generally let strange men into my head, but under the circumstances I guess-''

He kissed her. Just quickly at first, impulsively. She blinked, then moved closer, wrapping her arms around him. They stayed like that for a moment, face to face, neither one making a move, just stretching out the tension until it almost hurt, daring each other with their eyes. Darcy found that she could anticipate his next movement, could almost feel it before it happened, and so she let him lean forward again, let his mouth claim hers again, more deeply and intimately this time.

Hesitation wound itself between their joined minds. Darcy could see several possible outcomes to their current situation, most of which ended with the two of them in a crazy jumble of naked limbs on the floor of the office, which, while very enticing, seemed wildly inappropriate given everything that was going on at the moment. They seemed to somehow simultaneously agree, and pulled reluctantly away from each other, breaking their embrace.

Darcy tried to process everything that had just happened. Desire pulsed in waves through her blood. Closing her eyes, she let herself adjust to the new heightening of all her senses, the overwhelming feeling of connectedness that was almost crushing, the taste of his mouth still lingering. And more than that, the astonishing feeling that she _belonged_, that their minds fit together perfectly. Loki wasn't what everyone seemed to think he was, there was so much _more_ there, and it was both tantalizing and frightening.

''I don't ever want to leave you,'' she found herself saying.


	9. Chapter 9

Four of the Avengers stood on the roof of SHIELD headquarters, certainly not the most pleasant place to be at the moment; it was about as welcoming and warm as Antarctica. Swirling cloud formations in foreboding dark shades moved across the sky. It looked to Natasha Romanov like a hellish version of that Van Gogh painting. The red-haired assassin was not easily rattled, she was always usually several steps ahead of her enemy, but this storm had her beat. For the first time since she was four years old, a thought crept through her mind as the clouds continued to spin, as the cold chewed at her skin: _''I want my mom_.''

''I have to meet with the police commissioner,'' Steve Rogers yelled to Tony Stark, Barton, and Natasha. ''Looting and rioting has already started in several areas; people have officially started to panic. Stark, two transformers already blew, the power grids are about to go down. One hour, tops, and the whole city goes dark. We need them backed up. Can you-''

''Already on it!'' Stark called back. ''Of course we'd stand a better chance if the mayor had actually _listened_ to all of my proposals regarding-''

''Later, Stark, just get to it!''

''How's Fury?'' Natasha pulled her hat down more tightly over her ears, tried to will her teeth to stop chattering. Her face felt like a sheet of ice.

Captain America shook his head. ''Comatose, last I heard.''

''Not what I heard, Cap,'' corrected Stark. ''_Delirious_, not comatose. He's talking. People in comas don't talk.''

''You two can argue semantics later over a romantic shawarma dinner, but first we need to get moving,'' Clint snapped. He looked like he was in pain, his face twisted in clear discomfort. Natasha flashed him a concerned glance. ''What about Thor?'' he added, ignoring her obvious worry.

Hawkeye's question was answered abruptly by a loud, cracking boom. A cyclone-like tunnel swirled down out of the white-grey sky, and then another impossibly loud crack sounded, announcing the thunder god's return.

* * *

Thor seemed to arrive back from Asgard more quickly than expected, or perhaps Darcy had been so distracted by the linking of her mind with Loki's that it only seemed that way. Odin had agreed to his request, and the four of them-himself, Loki, Jane, and Darcy-would be leaving as soon as possible.

''We only have a narrow window of opportunity to travel there safely,'' explained Thor, as Bruce Banner worked quickly to disconnect all of the wires and electrodes that were hooked to Jane, who appeared to be sleeping. ''So we must go almost immediately, before the storm makes it impossible. Fortunately, right now we can actually harness some of its energy and use that to our advantage.''

He looked at Banner. ''Bruce, I would like it if you would come as well. You can be of great help to us. Your mind is a valuable asset.''

Bruce gave him a lopsided half-smile and shrugged. ''Aw, shucks,'' he said jokingly, then the humor dimmed away. ''You know I can't do that. I need to stay here and help the rest of the team. I took an oath as a doctor, and I have to uphold it.''

Thor clamped his hand warmly on the other man's arm. ''I cannot thank you enough for all the help that you have given us, especially Jane. You are a kind, brave soul, my friend.''

Bruce nodded. ''So are you. It's been a pleasure knowing all of you...even you, puny god,'' he said, with a small grin in Loki's direction.

''Well, I was a bit off my game that day, I'll admit,'' the deity in question replied.

Jane was now free from the hospital bed; Darcy and Thor worked to get her into a coat, hat, and gloves; they would be going up to the roof, out into the middle of the storm, in just a few minutes.

Once she was sufficiently protected from the elements, the blond god lifted her easily into his arms and looked at the rest of them.

''We must be going now.''

Darcy ran over and quickly hugged Banner. ''You're the best kind of guy, seriously. No matter what happens with all of this, I am never going to forget you.''

''Don't be so grim. You act like the world's about to end or something,'' the doctor smiled and patted her gently on the back.

''Stay angry,'' she whispered to him around a wavering attempt at a grin. It faltered and Darcy knew that she was once again about to cry.

''Till my last breath, I promise.''

''There's so much to be angry about!'' she called to him as they began to leave the room, as Loki grabbed her arm and gently pulled her along, ''the economy, Justin Bieber, _Fringe_ being cancelled...'' Bruce laughed softly to himself before turning away, fading out of her line of vision as she was tugged around the corner and into a dimly lit stairwell leading to the roof.

* * *

The air up there was unbearably, chokingly cold, but it was unfortunately the best location for the particular method of travel that was required to transport them to Asgard. The roof had been turned into a kind of weird, makeshift base camp; many different pieces of electronic equipment covered by tarps monitored the rapid changes in the weather and furiously collected other data while huge though essentially useless heat lamps attempted to offer some heat and light for the weary remaining Avengers.

Darcy felt a hand on her shoulder, whirled around and saw Natasha Romanov standing there, cold and exhausted yet afire with manic resolve. Her wide eyes burned like she was readying herself to stare down the mouth of hell and spit knives into it. She looked like a Valkyrie.

''I'm so sorry this has to happen,'' the Black Widow said.

''Why can't you come too?'' Darcy's voice tore from her throat with an almost agonized cry that was immediately swallowed up by the shrieking of the wind.

Natasha shook her head with a forceful sadness. ''I belong here.'' She glanced behind her for a moment, over to where Clint Barton was standing like a shadow. ''He's starting to get the headaches,'' she added very quietly.

Darcy flung her arms around the older woman, wrapping her in a tight, brief hug. ''Thank you for everything,'' she whispered into the redhead's ear. Natasha instinctively tensed, not used to being impulsively embraced, her training teaching her to always anticipate such physical gestures as being typically followed by an attack. But then she relaxed slightly, eventually returning the hug as much as she could. ''Don't thank me,'' she said, and when they pulled away from each other, Darcy could swear that there were tears on the other woman's face.

Stark was there, too, strong and determined inside his red and gold suit. His face, however, was exposed and Darcy could see a pained look in his warm, brown eyes. She didn't think twice about hugging him, suit and all. Her arms clanked against metal as she bid Tony goodbye. The hug lifted her clean into the air. ''I know that you have to stay. I know. But thank you for being so nice to me.''

Tony set her down. ''I'm not all that nice, kiddo,'' he said, in a weary voice. The words tugged at her memory. He'd said them once before to her. Just before he'd taken her to see Nick Fury. Just before all hell really broke loose.

''But occasionally, you try to do the right thing, I remember. Tony, if I never come back, if this really is the end, the big one...if I never see you again I still want you to know that I...really hate shawarma.''

Tony gasped in mock horror and put a hand over his reactor. ''Blasphemy. Utter blasphemy. I condemn thee to an eternity of quiet reflection on how wrong you are.''

Darcy laughed. ''I don't need an eternity, dude. I know right now! A giant, weird, cotton-candy meat stick kinda weirds me out!''

''That's...wow...that's so Freudian I don't even know where to begin. So, I guess we won't begin at all. Or end. Kid, I would love nothing more than to be on a warm beach in Hawaii right now, drowning in rum, so to you, Ms. Lewis, I say 'Aloha.' ''

''Aloha, Mr. Stark.'' Darcy turned away as quickly as possible, hurrying over to join the others, refusing to look back, refusing to feel. Loki slid his arm through hers. _''You're not alone, you're safe, I'm here.''_ His reassuring words flooded through her.

''Where's the Captain?'' she cried, suddenly realizing that she'd never said goodbye—or even much of anything for that matter—to Steve Rogers. Loki rolled his eyes, Darcy elbowed him in the ribs. Overgrown Boy Scout or not, Captain America had a good heart. And looking out over the city, she grimly realized that the people were going to need at least the _idea_ of him to comfort them in the coming days. Even if he, and all the rest of the Avengers, were now just trying to hold back a force that they were all powerless against.

''He's gone to meet with the police. People are panicking and becoming violent,'' Thor explained. ''You'll see him when we return, don't worry, Darcy. You don't need to take anything with you,'' he added. ''We must travel as lightly as possible. None of your devices will work on Asgard, anyway.''

''_Where you are going, Professor, you won't need your Dante,_'' Darcy said very softly.

''Huh?'' mumbled Jane from Thor's arms, shifting ever so slightly awake. With all of the sedatives that Banner had given her before they left, she didn't seem to notice much of anything that was going on.

''It's from a poem by Robert Lowell,'' explained Darcy wearily. Her ears were going numb from the raging wind. She wished that she'd worn earmuffs. She wished that she _had_ earmuffs.''He lost his mind and so they gave him electroshock therapy. When he's tied down on a stretcher, waiting, someone says that to him.'' It felt utterly ridiculous, to be yelling this explanation aloud.

Thor frowned in confusion, while Loki smiled. ''_You brought it on yourself. The next time you get the urge to make obscure poetic references, whisper them to me first. You'll save us all a good deal of time. I am...quite enjoying you, by the way.''_ Having his voice beam directly into her mind only served to enhance its low, silky quality. The sound crawled through her blood and made her tremble from the inside out.

''Nobody is going to get...what did you call it..._electroshocked_, Darcy,'' the blond god spoke to her in a slow, reassuring tone.

''Except for maybe _you_ again, brother. She does have a history with electricity.'' Loki offered, looking up at the sky, seeming as though he was trying not to laugh.

''And who is Dante?'' Thor asked, blinking, still quite clearly bewildered.

''He went on a trip. A very long trip. Just like us,'' mumbled Jane, the eerie, sing-song voice returning briefly before her eyes fell completely closed again.

There came a sudden brief calm in the roaring wind and snow, as if they were wrapped in the eye of the storm. Then, all around them, the wind kicked up again, blowing in a circular motion, as if a tornado was forming, waiting to pick them up. ''_Here we go, Beatrice_,'' Loki whispered to Darcy through their connected minds, and grabbed her hand. She only had half a second to look at him curiously, before she felt herself being, well, _lifted _was probably too gentle a term.

She bit down hard on her lip as a strange, violent sensation overtook her, a sucking, diving feeling

that rattled her bones. The roof of the building was gone, New York City, the earth in general had vanished out from under their feet. The journey seemed to last for hours, but really it couldn't have been more than a minute. They had arrived somewhere, Darcy could feel solid ground again. Her head had been tucked down and her eyes had been closed tightly as they were traveling, now she hesitantly opened them and raised her head to look around.

Darcy heard Jane's awed voice first. ''Wow,'' the scientist said, blinking and looking around wildly. She drew in a deep breath, seeming more alert. ''Wow,'' Jane repeated, then her head lolled and rested on Thor's shoulder again, still her eyes moved frantically, as if she were desperately trying to take everything in before she passed out again.

''Darcy, Jane, welcome to Asgard,'' Thor said proudly.

Darcy tried to process what she was seeing. The colors were more vibrant than any she'd seen on earth, and there seemed to be more of them, if that was possible. The most fantastic blends of hues and tones were scattered around the sky. There were colossal buildings off in the distance, alien architecture, strange and beautiful. The city was almost iridescent.

''Hey, there are still stars here!'' Jane exclaimed, looking up, using every remaining ounce of her strength to lift her head to see better. ''But I don't really recognize any of the constellations...''

''You wouldn't,'' interjected a deep voice. Darcy turned at the sound to see an enormous, dark skinned man with frightening eyes standing there, watching them. He was wearing what looked to be a suit of gold armor. ''Many of the stars of Asgard are not typically visible from Midgard.''

''Heimdall, thank you for helping us arrive safely,'' Thor greeted him warmly, the gratitude clearly evident in his voice. Loki looked more hesitant and wary at the man's presence than anything else. ''These are my dear friends, Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis,'' continued Thor. ''Darcy and Jane, this is Heimdall, guardian and gatekeeper of this realm.''

The man didn't say anything, just looked at them both. He stared at Darcy particularly long, and his deep eyes kept moving back and forth between her and Loki. She shivered, felt Loki grow tense. Then Heimdall simply nodded and motioned for them to follow him.

The shimmering bridge upon which they had 'landed' felt odd under her feet; though she knew it was most definitely solid and would support them all, Darcy felt uneasy and off-balance. She refused to look over the side, concentrating solely on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping her eyes fixed on the city in the distance that was getting closed and closer.

Once they reached and entered one of the looming buildings, Darcy heard Jane gasp. Their surroundings _were_ quite spectacular, they were all now inside what could only be called a palace. Everything was gold and ornate and the light reflected off of it so brightly that it almost gave her a headache. She felt small, dwarfed by it, getting the sudden sense that the glittering marble-like material was alive, was listening, was leaning closer and getting ready to swallow her. She shivered again.

Then came footsteps. Four people appeared, three men and a woman, all dressed in various types of armor. Darcy recognized them instantly from New Mexico.

''Sif!'' Thor called. The fierce looking, dark-haired woman smiled widely, more at Thor than at the rest of them, and once her gaze reached Loki the smile had slid completely off of her face and was immediately replaced with a stormy scowl.

''Hello,'' she greeted them, her voice steady and firm. The three men hung back a bit, quietly. ''Thor, the Allfather wishes to speak with you. First, though, you can take your...friend to the healing chambers; Eir is waiting there to attend to her.''

The woman spun around briskly on her heels and the three men followed in turn. Thor turned to Darcy and Loki. ''I will only be gone a short while. Once I get Jane settled and speak to Odin, we'll all sit down and discuss matters more thoroughly.'' Then he too, was gone.

''Jeez, that was a nice, warm welcome!'' Darcy spat sarcastically.''What do we do now?'' Her hands hung limply at her sides, she felt, for some reason, almost more crushed and helpless than she had on earth. Everything felt...heavier and denser on Asgard, even the air, which smelled strange and foreign. Far from being dazzled by the place as Jane so clearly had been, Darcy was left feeling incredibly nervous.

''Well, I suppose that the Allfather isn't exactly clamoring to see me just yet, _such_ a surprise, really,'' Loki answered, with equal sarcasm. He took Darcy by the hand, gently, and his expression warmed. ''Come with me. Let's take a walk.''

He led her back outside, following a path down to what looked like a small courtyard, maybe a garden. Darcy found that once she was outdoors she felt a little better. The large flowers that grew heavily all around were exotic and vividly colored, mimicking the alien hues that painted the sky.

A sound wove through the air, soft and pleasant. _''They sat together in the park. As the evening sky grew dark. She looked at him, and he felt a spark, tingle to his bones..._'' It was Loki, singing quietly as they walked beside each other. Darcy inclined her head towards him curiously, noticing the dreamy, distracted expression on his face. He paused for a moment, noticing her eyes. ''That's you, I take it. I'm not familiar with the song, if you were wondering.''

She nodded. ''Yeah, it's an older song from back home. On _Midgard. _I'm never gonna get used to calling it that, by the way. 'Midgard' sounds like the name of some medieval nun. Anyway, it's the song that you were singing in my dream, before we mind-melded. I guess it must have been swirling around in my subconscious and you picked up on it. Kinda ironic if you think about it.''

''You looked very peaceful while you were asleep then. Relieved and happy. The strangest smile kept...creeping around that soft mouth of yours.'' His gaze narrowed on her lips and the same memory pummelled them both simultaneously; Darcy felt her skin flush and her stomach dip.

''Don't do that to me right now, not yet,'' she started in a warning tone, putting her hands on her hips. ''I may be stronger now because I'm linked to you, but I'm still about to throw up from sheer terror and confusion. This has been the _longest_ day of my life, and it's been one panic attack after another, with a brief spell of mind-fucking and making out thrown in for good measure. Not to mention that now I have _interdimensional jet lag_! That's like, a thousand times worse than a flight from New York to Australia. And I never even got to SEE Australia!'' Darcy was rapidly working herself up into some sort of fit.

''Let it all out...let it go. Scream it to me if you need to, it's refreshing.'' Loki was clearly both aroused and amused, and Darcy couldn't help but feel the same way, almost as if they were mainlining emotion to one another through the weird cord connecting their minds.

''Everything feels strange here,'' she confessed to him, trying to be honest without whining. ''I don't _get_ it. It feels like...like everything is very old and alive, and smarter and bigger than me. Somehow even the walls seem to know something I don't.''

To her great relief, Loki nodded. ''I know what you mean. I've never felt completely at home here, myself. It makes sense, I suppose.''

''Why? Why does it make sense?''

''Because I'm not from here. Not originally, anyway.''

''Oh, that's right!'' she exclaimed. ''You're adopted! So, where were you born?''

A slightly pained look crossed his features. ''A realm called Jotunheim.'' Unconsciously, somehow, a hostile border was set up around the perimeters of his mind. He froze over in self-defense.

''What's it like there? Is it like here? Is everyone really tall and warrior-looking?'' Darcy intentionally began to chip away at the wall that had suddenly been built out of nowhere.

''It's the realm of the Frost Giants,'' he replied quietly. She could hear bitter apathy trespassing here, now.

''What do _they_ look like?'' she asked wonderingly. Whatever image Darcy may have formed in her head, it dissolved quickly as she watched Loki did something very unexpected; he seemed to shapeshift right in front of her eyes. His skin changed, turning a deep blue color, taking on a different texture entirely. He seemed almost taller, and when he stared back at her his eyes were no longer that glittering shade of blue-green, but a bright, violent shade of red.

Darcy didn't move, didn't breathe. Somehow, through the connection of their minds, she felt fear, but not from her. From _him_, and it radiated powerfully. Like he was terrified of himself, or at least the way that he looked at that moment. Slowly, the blue faded away and the red dulled out of his eyes and within a few seconds Loki had returned to his ordinary appearance.

''Is that why your skin is always so cold? Because you're a frost giant?'' she asked. He nodded.

''Yet I have always felt that he belonged here with us,'' said a new, unfamiliar voice behind them. Darcy turned at the lilting sound and saw a very beautiful, regal-looking woman standing there. She had long golden hair, a seemingly ageless face, and kind, wise eyes.

''Mother,'' whispered Loki.

''Dude, that's your _Mom_?'' Darcy hissed aloud in an awed voice before she could stop herself. The woman smiled, almost as if she were stifling a laugh, and walked over to them. She threw her arms around Loki, wrapping him in a gentle, loving embrace, which he returned. Then she released him and moved to rest her hands on Darcy's shoulders. ''Hello, my dear'' she said. ''My name is Frigga. I am proud to be the Queen of this realm. Welcome to Asgard, though I am grieved that your visit couldn't be under happier circumstances. I hope that you find some peace here.''

''Thank you, uh, Your Majesty,'' Darcy said, dipping down in an awkward attempt at curtseying.

''You may simply call me Frigga, if you like. I know what you mean to my son,'' the woman replied with a light smile. Darcy wondered what the queen was trying to say. Something about Frigga made Darcy instantly certain that this woman always knew a thousand times more than she'd ever let on.

''If the two of you would like, you may come inside now. Loki, your father would like to speak to everyone regarding the troubling matters we now seem to be facing. But first, I'm sure that you'd like to freshen up a bit. Darcy, let me show you to your room.''

''_Go now, I will see you shortly,_'' Loki spoke inside her head.

A little reluctantly, Darcy nodded and followed Frigga along the pathway back to the main hall. The Queen didn't walk so much as _glide_; Darcy expected to feel nervous in her otherworldly presence, but rather, Frigga had a very kind, strong aura about her that was intensely relaxing.

''I don't want you to feel at all uncomfortable here,'' the Lady said. ''But I know that it can seem quite disconcerting at first to visit Asgard, especially for Midgardians. Only a handful have ever been here, and they're mostly dreamwalkers.''

''Dreamwalkers?'' Darcy echoed.

Frigga nodded, speaking over her shoulder. ''Yes, shamans, or _seidkona_. Seers who can leave their physical bodies behind and travel the nine worlds. It's the way Midgardians learn to travel through Yggdrasil without the aid of a Bifrost. It's quite dangerous, and _very_ strenuous on the mind. Few make it this far, unless they're brought by a guide. Many are simply lost.''

''Lost where?'' asked Darcy, reminding herself to google 'shamans' as soon as she was back within reach of her laptop and a wireless signal. Frigga paused and turned around to face her. ''Any of the other realms, or perhaps they slip into the void between,'' she replied. ''In which case they're almost always irretrievable. Svartalfheim is notoriously hazardous also, and even Alfheim has its tricksters.''

''But you said that they're...they're just dreaming, right, these shamans? I mean, even if they get trapped in some other world, or lost, won't they eventually just...wake up?''

Frigga laughed lightly. ''I'm afraid it's not that simple, my dear. It's...it's more like a very deep trance than a dream. The spirit of the person, what you might call part of their soul or essence, it detaches from their body and travels. If that essence is lost, well, then all that's left behind on Midgard is a body.''

Darcy shivered. ''You mean, they won't _ever _wake up?''

Frigga looked deeply into her eyes and nodded slowly. Then she smiled and smoothed out her long dress, saying ''We'd better get you settled in. They'll be gathering in the hall soon. If you'd like to know more about these subjects, just ask Loki. He's very knowledgeable about it.'' They were standing before a large wooden door at the end of the hall, which Frigga pushed open to reveal a very large, ornately decorated room. While huge and spacious, it wasn't really Darcy's style. All of the furnishings were very dark, lots of onyx and deep burgundy. Back during her brief Goth phase in high school she probably would have loved it, but now it all just seemed intensely foreboding.

''It's very nice, thank you,'' she commented to Frigga, not wanting to forget her manners, especially in front of a queen.

The Lady smiled at her, again her deep blue eyes suggested that she knew a secret; that look was both sweet and maddening. ''I'll have someone stop by to pick up your clothes and have them laundered. There are fresh garments hanging in the wardrobe, I hope that they suit you, but if not we can find something else. Will you be alright? I can have Loki come and show you the way back to the hall in a little while. I know that it's easy to get lost here.''

Darcy nodded, and bowed a little, still unsure of the proper otherworld etiquette. ''Thank you again, Your Ma—uh, Frigga. I appreciate your help.''

''Of course, my dear,'' the Queen said with a gentle smile, before turning and sliding out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Darcy sighed and the sound echoed for what seemed like an alarmingly long time. Hesitantly, she made her way over to the large wardrobe in the corner and pulled the doors open. It was huge and spacious on the inside, despite being full of dresses. _All_ dresses, Darcy noted with an inward groan. She didn't really wear too many of those, obviously always preferring pants and very baggy sweaters, liking the sensation of being able to hide inside her clothes if she had to.

After reluctantly stripping down, she tried on three of the dresses, finding that she looked ridiculous in each of them. They were slightly old-fashioned looking, yet somehow avant-garde, which seemed to mesh perfectly with the general Steampunk vibe of Asgard. The fabrics and colors were beautiful, the beadwork intricate and lovely, the problem was that they fit almost _too_ well, tightly hugging the curves that she _mostly_ tried to hide.

''Where's that Sif chick's room?'' Darcy mumbled as she dove back into the wardrobe, searching desperately for something else that she might have missed. ''I'll just go raid her closets, she's gotta have some pants in there somewhere...''

''I wouldn't do that if I were you. Sif can get quite grumpy,'' came Loki's low voice from behind her.

''Ooof,'' said Darcy, struggling to pull herself out of the closet and back up onto her feet, finding that moving in the long, bothersome dress was incredibly difficult.

''Trying to escape to Narnia?'' he asked her casually, leaning against the bedpost. ''You can't get there that way, I'm afraid.''

''How the hell do you even know about Narnia?'' she demanded, straightening up and whirling around, smoothing the now-wrinkled garment, a combination of deep blue velvet and silk with an almost corset-like fitted bodice.

''Oh, I've read a lot of books. Met a lot of people. Been inside a lot of dreams.'' He smiled at her, half wickedly, half kindly.

''Good for you!'' Darcy exclaimed sarcastically. ''Do you happen to know where I can find something to wear that isn't ridiculous looking?'' She tugged at the fabric for emphasis.

Loki's eyes roved approvingly over her figure, lingering for an especially long while on her chest. ''I don't see anything wrong with what you've got on now. I mean, if you absolutely _must_ wear clothes, then these suit you very well.''

She punched him in the arm, ignoring the mischevious glint in his eyes and the delicious smirk that crossed his face. ''I'm serious! I look...'' she trailed off, realizing the futility of the situation. ''Oh well, when in Rome...'' she shrugged.

''I never cared for the Romans. Revoltingly decadent people,'' sniffed Loki.

''Says the guy who grew up in a super-shiny, sparkly _palace_,'' she retorted. ''Let's just get this meeting over with, ok?''

* * *

With high ceilings, chandeliers, and an immensely long, wooden table, the Great Hall was more or less everything that Darcy had imagined, but with a slightly different twist. Like a Post-Modern Beowulf. Beowulf as played by David Bowie. Or something like that.

_'Your thoughts are far more rapid and bizarre than usual,'' _Loki observed as he led her through. _''It's all right. Nobody is going to bite you.''_

_''Well, actually, **that one** might_,'' he corrected with a sneer as they passed one of the Three Warriors, the one who reminded Darcy of Errol Flynn. _''But I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's quite frightened of me._''

_''Who here __**isn't**__ afraid of you?''_ she retorted, trying to keep her outward appearance even and calm, which was rather difficult to do while carrying on a conversation inside of her head.

_''The man standing at the end of the table, I expect,_'' answered Loki, gesturing to a bearded, white-haired, imposing looking old warrior with a gilded eye patch, dressed in heavy armor. He radiated power, terrifying power. _Santa Claus with 'roid rage_, Darcy thought, but only to herself. On one side of him was Frigga, looking still gentle and kind, now more shining and goddess-like than she had seemed before. On the other side, Thor stood, decked out in what Darcy had affectionately deemed his ''god-prince'' clothes. Across the table from Loki and Darcy was Sif, whose icy eyes stared straight ahead, her lips set in a firm line. Everyone in the room remained standing and silent. She wondered what in the hell they were all waiting for. She soon found out.

Everything hushed itself even more as three women entered the hall. Nobody even seemed to breathe once their presence made itself known. Darcy turned, and felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach by the sight. They were all equally lovely and terrifying, their pale faces transitioning seamlessly between youth and withered old age, back and forth again and again. All three had long, silky grey-white hair , were pale-skinned and bone-thin, and wore long robes woven out of a shimmering fabric that looked like spiderwebs. They moved with a tired grace.

The middle woman was the most beautiful, and the most frightening. Full, bloodless lips and a gaunt but delicate shifting face. She gave the sensation that she might rip your heart out and feed it to you, yet somehow you wanted to let her, wanted to stand back and watch it all happen. Watch yourself be destroyed. Again and again, Darcy shivered.

_''Who are they?'' _she demanded.

_''In your language I suppose you would call them the Norns. But whatever word you have for them, it still translates into ''the three bitches who run the universe''_

_''What...the...what the hell does that even mean?''_

She looked right at them, both of them, turned her head swiftly like a predator catching the scent of blood on the air.

_''That one is Skuld. She's the one who really fucks things up. Don't worry, though, she tends to be a bit melodramatic.''_

Then she fixed her eyes on Loki, moving closer with an outstretched hand. ''World-Breaker,'' she hissed. Her fingers clamped down on his face, gripping his chin. Darcy watched in horrified fascination as Skuld leaned over, her tongue darting out to lick along his face. Loki remained remarkably calm, remaining absolutely still, betraying no emotion whatsoever. Then the woman laughed. She pulled back slightly, still laughing, then her face morphed fluidly again and she spoke, furiously and full of venom, in a language that Darcy didn't understand. She tried to seek some translation from Loki, but he clearly didn't want her to know. It was all blank, all white noise. Skuld reached up and grabbed a handful of Loki's hair, tousling it as if he were a child, but then her motions became filled with a violence, and she shoved him down into his chair. He drew in a sharp breath, as if he wanted to say something but could not.

Skuld was now right in front of Darcy, less than an inch away. She didn't say anything, just looked. It was a long, bone-rattling stare. And then she moved again, this time over towards the end of the table where Frigga and Odin stood. The other two women now followed her. Darcy's knees shook; she let out a shaky breath.

Frigga spoke with the woman for a moment. They spoke in that same unfamiliar language; Skuld looked back over at Darcy and then repeated the same word insistantly. The Queen of Asgard frowned and nodded, then leaned to whisper something to Odin. Skuld turned and walked back, flanked by the other two women, to the opposite end of the table where they took their seats.

Odin then motioned for everyone else to sit as well, and they did so gratefully, particularly Darcy. Then he nodded at Thor, who spoke. ''Thank you, father, for your willingness to offer aid to the people of Midgard, and to all of the realms-''

He was cut off by Sif's harsh cough of laughter. ''Well of course the burden of the nine realms would now fall to Asgard. This is what comes of inviting evil into our halls. This is what happens when we make excuses for liars and traitors.'' The warrior woman's eyes flashed angrily. Darcy felt fury spike in her blood, prickle on her skin. ''Just what do you mean by that, exactly?'' she demanded aloud, before she even realized she was speaking. _Oh, shit_.

''I mean that bad blood will always be bad. Tainted.'' Sif bit her lip as if she were trying _not_ to say something, but then her anger overtook her like a flood and she rushed on anyway.''I mean that you are the whore of a monstrous bastard, one who should have been left right where he was found and-''

Loki leapt to his feet. ''You'd do well to keep your mouth shut,'' he snarled at her, ''Or tomorrow morning you may wake up missing all of your hair again. And I assure you, this time there will be no replacement. Such a shame, too. You did look so pretty as a blonde-''

Sif looked as though she were fixed to kill, poised to leap clear across the table at him when Odin suddenly roared ''Enough!'' and a crack of what sounded like simultaneous thunder and lightning forced them all back down to their chairs, knocking the wind clean out of them.

''I am so weary! So tired of this petty squabbling, this old anger. Sif, though Loki has wronged you in the past, you will not insult our guest. I detest these times in which I find myself. I have never been so tired in all my years of existence. There is no respect for the old power, anymore. On Midgard they pull and harness and dabble endlessly without giving a thought to the consequences. To wield power of that nature you must earn it! You must sacrifice! In my youth I was hanged from the branches of Yggdrasil for nine days of torture before I was allowed to know even the names of the runes! And now you come to me with your broken toys and beg me to fix them! Oh, they shall be fixed. But not without cost.''

From the opposite end of the table, Skuld began to laugh, a grim sound, the sound of wind screaming through a narrow cavern beneath the earth.


	10. Chapter 10

''A Skype message just showed up on Jane Foster's computer via a secure server,'' Bruce Banner explained to Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton, who had been summoned down from the roof and into the stairwell, so that the three could talk away from the howling storm. ''It was from some scientist in Norway, and she seemed pretty scared. Said that Erik Selvig has just been rushed to the hospital showing symptoms of the same illness we've been seeing here, but he keeps insisting that he has to talk to Dr. Foster. He won't say why, only that it's important.''

The Black Widow rubbed her arms and shifted on her feet, grateful for the chance to be inside again. ''Bullshit. We don't have time for secrets.''

''You know that's impossible, Banner,'' agreed Hawkeye.''But if Selvig really does have some kind of information that could be helpful, we need to know. Call back and see if you can get anything else while you still can, because before we know it the only method of communication we may have is a transistor radio or Morse fucking code,'' he added, then winced and rubbed his face with his hand.

Bruce looked at the other man with concern. ''How long ago did the headaches start?'' he asked. ''are you experiencing any other symptoms, any confusion or dizziness-''

''No!'' Barton snapped irritably. ''I'm fine. Just do your job and don't worry about me.'' He turned sharply and left the room.

''Bruce, I'm sorry. You know he won't do anything about it, and there's nothing that _can_ be done anyway.'' Natasha's voice trembled slightly as she spoke, then she set her jaw in a firm line and moved to follow after Clint.

''I'm trying to figure out a way to delay or slow the symptoms, Natasha, but there's no telling how long it will take,'' offered Banner wearily. ''I'll call back to Norway and see if we can get any relevant information out of Selvig. Maybe they've figured something out over there that we haven't thought of. But promise me that if you start to experience the headaches you will tell me right away.''

''I will, Bruce.''

''And if Barton starts to fall apart, you need to bring him in. Drag him if you have to. He'll be in worse danger if he pushes himself.''

''Understood,'' said Natasha, her voice heavy and cold.

''And if you see Steve Rogers,'' added Banner, ''Tell him I'd like a word.''

* * *

Nighttime in Asgard was beyond eerie, Darcy decided, and there was no way that she was going to sleep comfortably there, especially not after the earlier events of the evening. Skuld's laugh was still echoing in her head, scraping against the sides of her mind like craggy fingernails. Even the shadows on the walls seemed to be alive and watching her. The door creaked open ever so slightly and Darcy nearly screamed at the sound. Her nerves were in utter shreds.

''Relax, it's just me,'' Loki's voice whispered, almost amused.

''I hate it here,'' she whimpered pitifully from underneath the covers.

''Come on,'' he sighed, entering the room, sliding through the darkness and the living shadows. His hands fumbled, trying to untangle her from the protective barrier of blankets and linens that she'd wrapped around herself. ''Come with me.''

Darcy grabbed onto his arm, kicking herself free and tumbling out of bed. He pulled her into the hallway. ''Where are we going?'' she asked.

''My room,'' he answered, pushing open a door on the other side of the corridor to reveal a very large, high-ceilinged bedroom. There were walls and walls of bookshelves, stretching almost to the ceilings, and maps of strange, unfamiliar worlds hanging all around. The large window in one corner was open, letting in a breeze that was almost, almost refreshing. This space seemed to her less dense and miserable than the others, and warmer. Darcy felt safe in there with Loki, it was almost as though the watching walls and listening shadows couldn't see or hear her.

''Thank you,'' she sighed, sinking down onto the large bed.

''It's always strange here at night,'' Loki explained sympathetically, closing the door and crossing the room to sit beside her. He'd taken off all of his formal Asgardian attire and now was dressed more casually in black pants and a shirt that was only half-buttoned, revealing the expanse of skin that Darcy was so inexplicably fascinated by. She wanted to bite him, to fasten her mouth there and not let go until he moaned. His hair was more mussed, as if he'd been lying down, and a few long loose strands fell across his forehead. An almost painful jolt of pure lust shot through her. The close proximity of their bodies now was both enticing and nerve-rattling.

''Just at night?'' she wondered aloud with a slight shiver. Then, miraculously, she remembered something, a useful distraction from her increasing horniness. ''Earlier today, your mom was telling me something about shamans from earth who can travel here without a Bifrost. She said that if I wanted to know more I should ask you.''

''Daaarcy,'' groaned Loki, shaking his head in slight frustration. ''Why do you need to know about that _now?_ Or at _all_, for that matter?'' Clearly, she wasn't the only one affected by their current situation.

''For reasons. And don't bother trying to look, I hid them.'' She folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a pointed look.

Loki frowned, then rolled his eyes. ''Oh, all right. What do you want to know?'' He lay back on the bed, long legs splayed out almost obscenely, his hands propped behind his head.

''How do they do it? How do they leave their bodies and travel?'' Darcy pulled herself into a cross-legged sitting position and stared down at Loki expectantly, trying desperately to ignore the fact that all she wanted to do was climb on top of him.

''Certain Midgardians are born with an innate talent for it, I suppose,'' the god began, in a slightly bored voice. An anthropological discourse was hardly what he had hoped for now that Darcy was in his room, on his bed, but she clearly had an ardent desire to know something that he could teach her, and he found that oddly satisfying. ''Then once they are called by the spirits, or when their gift reveals itself, an elder will take them as an apprentice and teach them. They train their mind, the way a warrior trains the body. The shamans are taught to put themselves into deeper and deeper levels of trance by using some kind of rhythm, usually a drum or a rattle.''

''What does that do?'' Darcy looked at him skeptically. ''I had a drum kit when I was in high school, and I never tranced out at all, just pissed off the neighbors.''

''It helps them to 'fare forth' as they call it, they drift out of themselves on the sound and it pulls them like a current out to sea,'' explained Loki, with calculated patience, though the sweet smell of her skin was distracting him terribly, as was the fact that she clearly wasn't wearing anything beneath her oversized cotton shirt. He swallowed hard, and continued, ''Eventually, with enough time and practice, they will find their consciousness drifting to another place entirely, find that it isn't a dream, that the other worlds are as real, as beautiful, and as dangerous as any other. Sometimes they panic, and flail, and get lost. The well-trained ones continue on, having learned respect and earning the right to navigate the realms. But there are threats always, even for the most competent traveler. And the further they journey into Yggdrasil, the greater those threats become.''

''Can you do that? Can you trance out and travel through the realms like the shamans?'' Darcy's glasses slid down on her nose as she furrowed her brow in curiosity.

Loki snorted dismissively. ''Of course, but I don't need to.''

She hesitated for a moment before asking, ''Can you teach me how?''

If he couldn't touch her soon, he was going to lose his mind. And hers, along with it. ''To fare forth, you must abandon. Abandon the concept of the world as you knew it to be, forget those supposed rules and truths that held everything so cleanly together. It all will fall to pieces. But then you will see something new. It's the trance that's important, not the method. It doesn't have to be a drum, that's just what seems to work best. You must find a rhythm that carries you deeper until you arrive in another place. But Darcy, you don't really need to know all this. You're already here, body and spirit both. There's nowhere else you need to go right now.''

She bit her lip at this explanation, looking troubled, staring down at him.

''Don't worry so much,'' Loki added determinedly, sitting up in a fluid motion, reaching out a hand to smooth Darcy's hair back from her pouting face. ''And don't let the Norns bother or confuse you. They've always been gloomy and meddlesome.'' His face was only a breath away from hers now; she knew that whatever had begun that day in the window, it was still going on, some chain of events remained incomplete. ''You know that I'll never let anything happen to you. I can feel you so close to me all the time.'' He paused a moment before continuing. ''I can feel your heart beating. It sounds like...like rain. Like rain falling onto water. And it comforts me, knowing that you're there.'' He slid his hand down and rested his fingers along her neck, feeling her pulse thudding beneath the skin. Her heartbeat throbbed and fluttered, it felt like music underneath his fingertips.

Pulling away from him gently but firmly, Darcy got up off of the bed and restlessly explored the room, unable to sit still beside him any longer, afraid of what might transpire, afraid of herself. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing heavily. Walking over to the bookcase, Darcy ran her hands along the spines of several leatherbound volumes with strange runic markings until her fingers came to rest upon a thin, flat book. She pulled it off the shelf, could feel Loki watching her as she examined it. It was a sketchbook, similar to the one containing those intimate drawings of her that had caused so much unnecessary trouble. Darcy flipped it open. Each page was filled with careful, elegant sketches of a woman with long hair, positioned against the backdrop of various landscapes, some serene, some looking fiery and treacherous. In every image, though, the woman's face was almost completely hidden or obscured.

''I've been dreaming about her for a long time,'' Loki said in a low, rough voice. ''I never see her face.''

''These are old drawings, then?'' Darcy asked.

He nodded slowly, his pale face expressionless. ''The dreams stopped after the first time I saw you.''

She paused as one of the sketches seemed to call to her, speaking louder than the rest. The woman's long hair fell forward over her eyes, the rest of her face remained veiled in a blur of grey charcoal smears. Her arms were raised up over her head, as if she were surrendering or perhaps holding something up. The image, for whatever inexplicable reason, was deeply unsettling to Darcy. She shivered and snapped the book shut.

''Please come over here,'' Loki said softly, holding out a hand. She obliged him, taking tentative steps closer and putting her hand in his. He laced his fingers tightly through hers and pulled her down beside him again.

''In case you haven't figured it out, I want to finish what we started,'' he whispered, his voice low in her ear, all sandpaper and velvet. ''And I know that you do as well. This is still our story, above all else. Please, for a little while, forget everything. Let it just be us for a night. I want you to look at me the way that you did through the window.''

It was too cruelly, beautifully tempting a proposal to ignore. How could she say no? It struck Darcy as rather ironic that her source of steadiness now, her safe harbor in the universe, was a being of chaos, the ''World-Breaker'', the one everyone seemed to fear so. What did that say about her? Loki had told her not long ago that chaos was selfish, that it wanted. Maybe she was a world-breaker, too, because she _wanted_. She wanted so strongly that it choked her.

''Are we alone?'' she asked him, her eyes darting to each corner of the room and back again. ''I feel like we are now, but sometimes here...I feel like everything listens. Everything watches.''

''I promise you, we are alone. I'm the only one who sees you or hears you.''

She was pulled to him like a wave. He fumbled for a moment with her large shirt, she helped him to pull it off over her head. Her bare skin felt cloaked in the cool, heavy air.

''I remember this,'' Loki whispered, taking in the sight of her as though he'd been deprived, like she was oxygen and freedom. The look on his face was equally unsettling and arousing. He leaned her down on the soft bed; her heart was beating so hard and fast that it ached, scorched her blood, blistering her veins. Darcy closed her eyes, then felt his fingertips on her face, resting there gently. ''Please look at me,'' he said to her softly.

She obliged him, her eyelids fluttering open again. Then she whispered, ''I'm scared. I want you so badly but I'm _terrified_. Because I can feel you and I can hear you inside my head. And I keep feeling like I just need to pull you closer and closer but at the same time I feel guilty and...like a bad person because I'm not _supposed_ to want you.'' Her voice was cracking, tears were now rolling crazily down her face. She looked weary and rumpled, with tangled hair and blotchy skin and crooked glasses, and yet here he was, staring down at her with fierce, awful hunger in his eyes.

''Because of all the terrible things that you did,'' she continued wildly, ''And you were wrong to do those things, and you know it. I might be...I might be the only person in this or any other stupid realm that will ever really even come close to understanding you. And now that I've been there, now that I'm that person...I don't think that I can ever go back.''

''Good, because I don't want to give you back,'' Loki growled, then brought his mouth down against hers, kissing her senseless, his lips needy and devouring. It was different than their previous kisses, on the office floor. This wasn't hesitant, this was certain. Darcy allowed herself to respond, tugging at his shirt, trying to undo the rest of the buttons. He paused for a moment to help her, pulling off the shirt and letting it drop to the floor beside hers. _Show me what you want_, he whispered into her mind, his voice so erotic that her entire body hummed and goosebumps jumped out on her skin. Drawing in a deep breath, she allowed images to form in her head as she showed him the different ways she wanted him to make love to her, all the places she wanted to be touched and licked. Eyes lighting up, Loki smiled wickedly in response before leaning over her again, painfully hard and dizzy with adrenaline. He'd give her everything she wanted, but he would take his time, just because he wanted to hear her call out his name.

It went from fiery and devouring to slow and reverent, agonizingly slow. Darcy thrashed in torment and ecstasy as he sought to know every inch of her body, drown himself in her. She shook, trembled, whimpered and begged aloud shamelessly for more, crying out with a ragged moan as he entered her, a delicious ache throbbing deep inside as their bodies fitted together and he began to move. She closed her eyes but even in that darkness he was there, crawling through her blood, destinies lacing together like a web, bodies molding. Rhythm. Ebb and flow like the tide. _Carries you deeper carries you..._A familiar jolting feeling crashed through her senses as they both began to unravel. She and Loki clamoured at each other's minds, memories and emotion rushing past like fireworks in the periphery of her vision and for a moment Darcy wasn't even certain that she was breathing. His head rested in the crook of her shoulder, his long hair damp with sweat. Neither one of them said anything. She didn't want to move or speak, afraid that if she did she might begin to cry, because all her nerves were so gloriously raw. She just held him, listening. She listened closely and could hear a sound, a heartbeat, his or maybe hers, but the sound lulled her to sleep. It sounded like rain falling onto water.

Loki remained awake for some time after, watching her lying there in his bed, loose-limbed and deeply satisfied. Her long hair fell over her eyes like a curtain.


	11. Chapter 11

_In the burrows of the Nightmare_

_Where justice naked is_

_Time watches from the shadow_

_And coughs when you would kiss_

-W.H. Auden

* * *

Darcy dreamed about a well, set among craggy rocks in an unfamiliar grey place. The morose-looking landscape stretched for miles, dotted with a few gnarled, leafless trees. She moved towards the well, walking with trepidation and yet a great sense of urgency. A bird cried out in the distance with a shrieking _caw_, and cold pins and needles sloshed through her blood. Finally reaching the edge of the jagged heap of stones, she summoned her courage and leaned forward to look down into the well when a thin, icy hand clamped down over hers. She turned to see Skuld's terrifying face. ''Would you know more?'' the Norn demanded. Darcy screamed herself awake.

''Please stop, it's over, you're safe now,'' Loki kept saying as he tried to hold her, keep her from flailing wildly. She sucked in a deep, frantic breath, blinking and disoriented. ''It was just a dream,'' he assured her, gently gripping her face in his hands. ''It was horrible,'' Darcy whispered, forcing herself to focus on his eyes until she calmed down.

''This isn't really the way I wanted to wake up,'' she admitted, trembling. ''I was hoping it would be more cuddling, less screaming.''

''Then you slept with the wrong god, I'm afraid,'' Loki offered, only half-jokingly, releasing her.

Sighing, Darcy leaned back down and stretched out, willing her muscles to relax, trying to force the jumpy, cold adrenaline out of her veins. Feeling eyes on her body, she looked up and saw Loki staring at her intently. ''What? What are you looking at?''

''You. I'm trying to draw you in my mind.''

''Why don't you just use a _pencil_?'' she asked in a withering tone.

He shook his head. ''That never seems to lead to anything good.''

''Well...I mean...technically we met because of your drawings. Are you saying I'm not anything good?'' Darcy pretended to be insulted, but she kicked the blankets away and leaned on her side, angling her body enticingly.

Loki swallowed hard. ''That's not what I meant and you know it. I just...don't want to take the chance that someone else might ever see you the way I see you now. I don't want them to ever try and take you from me again.'' He reached out a hand and rested it against her forehead, then trailed downward, ghosting his fingertips along the side of her face, over her lips, down her throat. Her skin tingled with the cool, exciting sensation. Darcy gasped aloud as his hand moved over the slope of her breast and down over her belly before dipping lower. ''Please,'' she moaned and in response he slipped two long fingers inside her. She arched her back and gripped his shoulders, bucking her hips slightly as he brushed teasingly against her clit with his thumb. ''You are so very beautiful,'' he whispered, angling his fingers, searching for the place that would bring her over the edge, felt it, then pulled back, eliciting an almost animalistic growl from Darcy. He stroked her with an ever-changing rhythm, shifting every time he felt her about to come, drawing out her pleasure to a point that was almost maddening. ''Now,'' she begged, unable to stand it any longer, desperately wanting release. He was happy to oblige, sliding a third digit inside to the core of her, right where she so badly needed it. The intensity of her orgasm shook her, left her feeling raw and rattled in the most delicious way, as it had the night before. He slid his fingers out of her, releasing her almost reluctantly. ''See?'' he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss against her throat. ''That's art.''

* * *

**A Few Hours Later**

Darcy hadn't seen Jane since they'd first arrived and Thor had whisked her away to the healing chambers. Now, she was finally getting an update on the scientist's condition from Eir. Tall and willowy, with piercing ice blue eyes and long golden hair that was bound up in an intricate bun, the Healer was an imposing figure, yet she had a very gentle, albeit no-nonsense demeanor. She still refused to let Darcy into the Healing Chambers to see Jane, but stood with her outside the doors and patiently explained what was going on.

''You're friend's spirit is confused. Everything is shaking loose and so she does not know where to go.''

''Like the shamans!'' exclaimed Darcy loudly, then felt rather idiotic.

Eir looked mildly amused, then her expression fell stoic once again. ''Jane does not have the skills of a shaman, that is exactly the point. And even the most skilled seidkona would probably not be able to withstand this.'' She paused a moment, considering her words, then said gently, ''Think of a large house, or a palace. And in this palace there are numerous exits and entrances. Some people who live in the house know secret passageways in and out; they have been there before, and know the dangers. Now imagine that the palace is destroyed, but not in the traditional sense. Everything is bent, twisted, upside down. Everywhere you thought was an exit leads to a wall. Every supposed entrance leads you running in circles. And you're navigating blindly in the dark. This is what it will become. Her essence is scattered and dizzy. She's stabilized somewhat here, but that will not last long. This sickness will remain irreversible as long as the World Tree continues to tear itself apart.'' The Healer then looked more curiously at Darcy, staring at the space around her head as if she could see something, hovering and invisible.

''What?'' Darcy asked, irritable and disappointed. She'd been hoping naively for some better news.

Eir shook her head, her expression flattening once more. ''It is not important at the time being. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to the Chambers.'' She opened the door and vanished inside, leaving Darcy alone in the hallway. But not for long.

Sif appeared from around the corner, striding quickly towards her. _Again, oh shit. _Darcy briefly wondered who would win in a fight: the Asgardian warrior, or the Black Widow. She felt a small pang of sadness in the pit of her stomach as she thought of Natasha, who had been so kind to her.

''I'm glad I have the opportunity to speak to you alone, though he's probably listening somehow,'' began Sif sharply, then softened the edges of her voice and attempted lamely at politeness. ''I want to tell you that you've been playing a very dangerous game. I'm sorry that you've been dragged into this, but nevertheless, you are a part of it all now, and I hope you will at least listen to what I have to say.''

''I'll try my damnedest, but if you really want me to listen, maybe you shouldn't open with an accusation. I'm not playing any games. I'm only here to help my friends, and my world,'' Darcy snapped, amazed at her own boldness.

''Is that the only reason?'' Sif asked, raising an eyebrow. Her tone of voice suggested that she didn't believe this in the slightest.''You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. You're _in love _with him, aren't you?'' She sounded utterly disgusted by the idea.

Darcy felt as though she'd been punched. The fact that she was about to answer back with ''so what if I am, you got a problem with that, Xena?'' made her pause, and she bit her tongue. She stammered for a minute, unsure of herself, unsure of anything.

''You don't need to admit it, I already know you are. But you shouldn't be. He's...possessed you somehow, bewitched you. He's very cunning like that, like a serpent. But he poisons everything he touches. And now we're left to clean up his mess.'' Sif shook her head. ''He's put all of our lives, put the very fabric of the universe at risk. And you as well, his poor, misguided child bride.''

''Hey! I'm _standing right here_,'' Darcy shot back, unable to keep quiet any longer, harnessing her inner badass. ''I am not misguided, I am not a child, and I'm not anyone's bride! I don't know where you're getting your facts from, but you oughta _check them_. It wasn't just Loki who caused all of this. Sure, he didn't help anything with the whole using of the Tesseract-I'm still not sure what that thing even _is, _by the way—but it wasn't the only reason. People on my planet have been poking holes in the universe for a very long time, we just call it 'research.' ''

''I can't understand how you can let him touch you,'' Sif continued, almost wonderingly, clearly not listening to a word that she was saying.

''Good, then don't try to understand it. It's _none of your GODDAMNED BUSINESS!_'' Darcy practically shouted this into the other woman's face. As soon as the words left her throat, she cringed inwardly in terror, turned and darted back down the hall before Sif could say anything else to her. Or pull out a weapon.

She was rushing away so quickly around a corner that she failed to watch where she was going and nearly crashed into Verdandi, one of the Norns. Darcy seemed to be forever colliding—literally-with fate.

''Whoa, I'm sorry about that,'' she gasped, jumping back a bit, putting a hand over her heart. The three women were now almost a constant presence, drifting creepily through Asgard like slightly attractive Dementors.

Verdandi didn't say anything at first, just tilted her head to the side and acknowledged Darcy with a brief, curious half-smile. This Norn, for whatever reason, appeared to be the youngest of the three. There was an odd freshness about her, she seemed perhaps kinder.

''Follow the road that leads to the well. You must go farther, if you would know more,'' she stated, after a beat.

''Are you talking about my dream?'' Darcy asked, dropping her voice to a near-whisper.

The eerie woman did not answer, just stared, her pale, clear expression like rain sliding down glass.

''You know, your face-licking sister was there. She asked something about that, said 'would you know more?' What does that mean? Is there something I can learn? Something helpful?'' Hope, or at least curiosity, flooded through Darcy.

''You must go farther. Start back at the road that leads to the well, follow it onward,'' the Norn insisted patiently.

''What happens then?'' wondered Darcy aloud, not sure if she really wanted an answer, but needing one all the same.

''You will be very frightened.'' Verdandi's icy, sea-foam colored eyes looked deeply into hers.

''That's...incredibly reassuring, thanks,'' Darcy said weakly, turning away slightly from that unsettling gaze. ''Where does the road go?''

The Norn was once again silent. Then, soundlessly, she turned and ghosted back down the corridor in the other direction.

''I should've stayed on Earth,'' mumbled Darcy, gathering her annoying skirts with a sigh. She trudged wearily back down the hall, in search of Loki, or even Thor. Anyone who wasn't Sif or one of the Norns.

''There you are,'' called a gentle voice. Frigga glided out of one of the many doors, a smile on her face. It amazed Darcy that the Queen always looked so calm, no matter how horrendous the circumstances.

''I didn't know anyone was looking for me,'' she replied.

Frigga laughed. ''Well, I just always want to be sure that you don't get lost. And isn't it nice to know that someone is looking for you?''

''I suppose that depends on why they need to find me,'' Darcy answered with a shrug.

The Queen laughed again, smiled knowingly. ''Aha. Good point.'' She put her arm around Darcy's shoulders. ''Come with me.''

Frigga led her down a long staircase that seemed to descend for miles. At the bottom, there was a door, tucked under an alcove, almost hidden. She pulled the door open. Inside was a large room full of fabric, thread, and yarn. Beautiful tapestries hung on all of the walls, looms and spinning wheels of all sizes covered the floor. ''Is this a...a sewing room?'' Darcy asked in wonder.

Frigga nodded. ''Do you like to weave?'' she asked.

''I honestly never tried weaving,'' admitted Darcy. ''I did try to knit a Gryffindor scarf when I was in high school but it was kind of a disaster, and I gave up.''

''Sometimes giving up is a good thing, but then again, sometimes persistence is necessary. The real trick is knowing what the situation calls for. It's certainly not always clear,'' observed the Queen.

''Yeah, humans have been trying to figure that out for a long time. We have a famous song about it. _You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em_,'' she sang tunelessly, then trailed off and shrugged.

An almost childlike grin lit up Frigga's face. ''_You don't count your money when you're sittin' at the table, there'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done,_'' she sang along in response.

''No way! You know 'The Gambler' ?'' Darcy cried disbelievingly.

''Why, of course. My dear, we watch your world very closely here. You're like...like my long-lost and faraway children. You all have such good ideas, but sometimes those ideas have terrible consequences.''

Darcy had a feeling that the Queen wasn't talking about Kenny Roger's fantastically botched plastic surgery.

''I want you to come over here for a moment and look at this thread,'' Frigga continued, leading her across the room to where an enormous loom stood. On it rested what seemed to be the loose beginnings of another tapestry. She took hold of a thick, strong-looking piece of thread. ''You see, my dear girl, everything, in this and every other world, is connected. Imagine that this string is you. And, here you are born,'' she gripped the beginning of the thread, ''and then your destiny, or what we call your Wyrd, gets woven in with many others. These are all the other people that you touch as you go along your way. And here, the creation begins. And you don't see this happening, don't know it's happening, but it is.''

''Loki said that now the universe is 'tearing apart at the seams like worn cloth,' '' recalled Darcy.

''Perhaps. But cloth can always be mended.'' Frigga set the string down and patted Darcy on the back. ''It may take a very long time. And a skilled weaver. The strongest threads possible must be used. But it can be fixed.''

Darcy considered this for a moment, then ventured, ''So, um...your 'Wyrd' or whatever you called it...is it already determined? Does the...weaver know exactly where your thread is going to end up?''

Nodding, Frigga responded, ''Someone has to decide. Someone who has the ability to see what the tapestry will become. Now, you had better be getting back. I'm sure Loki has been missing you.''

* * *

**SHIELD Headquarters**

Banner let out a deep breath, sighing at a small victory as the woman's face appeared on the screen via the shaky, fragile connection. ''Hello...hello? I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, I work with Jane Foster. Can you hear me alright?''

Her voice came over, thickly accented, out of synch with her mouth as the video faltered. ''Yes. Dr. Banner, I can hear you. My name is Dr. Hesja Martinsson, I work at the Tromso Observatory. Is Dr. Foster there?''

''Dr. Martinsson, Jane is very sick. I believe that she and Dr. Selvig are suffering from the same illness. Is anyone else at the Observatory showing symptoms?''

''Nobody else here yet but there have been reports from Oslo of at least 3 others who were admitted to hospital with signs of this condition. Things here are not good, Dr. Banner. We have already lost communication with two different satellites, and our cellular towers are failing. The power grids...'' she trailed off.

''Hesja? Dr. Martinsson, I need to ask you, do you know what Erik Selvig needs to tell Jane?''

''He was not making any sense,'' she replied, and Banner watched her shake her head. ''I think it is the illness. But he keeps insisting. And I am very worried. We may be stranded here, the roads are not able to be traveled. The government has expressly forbidden people to be outside because of the storm and-'' the audio broke up, the video skipped and jumped, jumbling the scientist's features.

''No. No, not now...'' Bruce mumbled angrily and swore at the screen. ''Hesja, are you still there?''

The video stuttered, trying to buffer. He could hear patches of her voice. ''I think I'm losing you, Dr. Banner,'' she said.

''Just hang on for a second. Please tell me what Dr. Selvig needed to tell Jane. I know you must have some idea. I don't care if it makes sense or not, it might be helpful.''

The video steadied briefly, he could look at Hesja clearly now without getting seasick. She was younger than he expected, sloe-eyed and pretty. She looked absolutely terrified, but managed a small smile of relief when she saw Banner's face. ''He is very superstitious for a scientist. But many of us here are, though we do not care to admit it. Erik said that he had a vision, he kept saying something about a light, and an eye.'' Dr. Martinsson pulled out what looked like a notebook and held it up to the screen. ''And he wrote the same phrase over and over again.''

Bruce squinted at the screen. Entire pages were filled with violently scrawled, foreign lettering. ''I can't read that. Can you? What does it say?''

Again, like an erratic heartbeat, the video trembled.

''It says '_and there he lies bound til the end'_.''

''What does that mean?'' Banner demanded insistently. ''Who lies bound til the end?''

The connection stuttered crazily, about to fail for good. Bruce watched Dr. Martinsson shake her head again, her eyes lost and hopeless.

''It's just a story-'' she began, and then image froze, her voice disappeared, and an error message filled the screen stating that the connection had been lost.

* * *

**Asgard**

''I 'overheard' your little exchange with Sif earlier,'' Loki admitted to Darcy, sounding oddly proud. ''Thank you for...for saying the things you said,'' he added sincerely. They were sitting in his bedroom again, outside the window a golden orange light slowly swirled itself into the beginning blurs of violet and blue, indicating that it was late afternoon.

''That bitch is crazy!'' cried Darcy in response, feeling herself grow indignant and enraged at the memory of her conversation with the warrior. ''All self-righteous and holier-than-thou. '_I can't understand how you can let him touch you_','' she mimicked nastily. ''Just because she probably hasn't gotten laid in a millenia. And she called me a child bride. A _child bride_! That's...somehow that's the most disturbing insult I've ever gotten.''

''I honestly don't think she meant that to be an insult,'' Loki admitted, albeit grudgingly. ''She used that term because...well, by mortal standards, you _are _quite young. And I...I think that the level of connection between us is...confusing to some here.''

''Come again?'' Darcy asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

''I think I'll leave that to you,'' he replied with a rakish smile, and her entire body heated. ''But...suffice it to say that on Asagrd there is a certain...limited vocabulary with which to describe varying levels of intimacy.''

''Whatever,'' she snorted. ''You Asgardians should take lessons from the Inuit, they've got like 100 different words for snow, and that's pretty much the only weather that they _have_...but, dude, Sif's probably _really _got it in for me now. I don't know why I had to channel my Inner Badass.''

''Inner Badass?'' Loki repeated, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

''Yeah, I have one. Every normal woman does, we can't all be the Black Widow. I call mine 'Max'.'' Darcy shrugged, almost shyly, then added, ''Hey, can you please explain this Tesseract thingy to me?''

His face fell. ''Why, why, _why_ must you always ask these enormous questions right when all I can think about is how much I want to take you to bed?'' Loki's voice was weighed down with terrible frustration.

''So _sue_ me, I'm trying to be constructive. In order to do that, I need more details. Please? I promise you that I will make it up to you later.'' She mentally projected an image of herself kneeling in front of him, taking him deep into her mouth.

''Oh all right. All _right_,'' he relented breathlessly. Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Loki began, ''The Tesseract is an unlimited energy source. It is extremely powerful, and extremely intelligent. It is sentient, it is conscious, and it definitely has a will.''

''So...you used it to try and take over the Earth, is that right?'' Darcy pried.

''Technically.''

''You're really not telling me everything,'' she chided him, crossing her arms and staring pointedly. ''I know there's more to it than that. Show me.''

''No.'' Loki's voice was stony.

''Yes. Right now. Show me everything that happened,'' she demanded.

''I don't think that's wise-'' he started in a firm voice.

''Show me now or you'll be seeking a _new _friend for the end of the world. I'll get myself a nice chastity belt, there's gotta be one lying around somewhere...''

''Darcy...you are utterly impossible and infuriating,'' Loki growled, then threw his hands in the air. ''Fine. You win. But...it may be quite unpleasant.''

''I think I can handle it,'' Darcy retorted with false bravado. She shut her eyes and opened her mind; after a moment felt the rush of a shared memory, strong and crushing. But she wasn't just watching, wasn't a detached observer. She was inside of the memory, inside of him. Because her mind was linked to Loki's, she felt everything as he had.

_She looked down at her arm, cold terror knifing her in the heart as her skin changed color, darkening to a deep shade of blue. What? Standing at the end of a hallway, confusion, a choking feeling of betrayal. Blue glowing light in front of her eyes, reach out, take hold. Am I cursed? Tell me! Anger, so much anger and pain. She gritted her teeth, wanted to yell. Dug her fingernails hard into the palm of her hand. _

_Holding on. Letting go. A rush of cold nothing. Alone, so very alone. She felt as though she were being ripped apart slowly. Screamed and thrashed in agony. Thousands of tiny teeth chewed at her skin, down to the bones. Then came a voice out of the nothing, deep and cruel, chuckling, raking its fingernails along the raw sides of her face, the sides of her soul, gouging with a malevolent power so deep and vast it almost felt like love. A promise, a nod. Then came the blue light again, so beautiful. At first, it began slowly, working its way inside of her, slipping into her veins and gnawing its way along her bloodstream. Then it rushed, it burned. Oh gods, it burned; the pain was both exhilarating and excruciating. She screamed and screamed as it began to fully overtake her, felt it slip inside her mind, her consciousness tossed into a dark corner, paralysed, to make room for this Other. _

_It's too late. It's too late to stop it. _

Mercifully, the memory faded away and Darcy returned to herself. The first thing she saw was the ceiling, she must have fallen back onto the bed. Her entire body felt like a slab of cold stone. She couldn't move for a moment, couldn't speak. Loki was beside her, holding her with a pained gentleness. He looked devastated. ''I warned you,'' he ground out bitterly, his voice filled with regret. ''I didn't want you to see that.''

When she found that she could finally speak, it sounded like she was talking underwater, then gradually became more and more coherent. ''I'm glad that I know,'' she managed to croak out. ''Thank you.'' She struggled to sit up, and Loki helped her. The feeling was slowly returning to her body. Her limbs felt atrophied at first, weak and rubbery. Darcy leaned back against him, letting her head loll and rest on his chest. ''Just hold me like this for a little while,'' she whispered. ''That wore me out.'' A tear ran down her face.

''It's so quiet,'' she added, after a moment. ''It feels like we're the only two people in the world right now.''

''We are,'' he replied, brushing a kiss against her forehead.


	12. Chapter 12

_The glacier knocks in the cupboard_

_The desert sighs in the bed_

_And the crack in the tea cup opens_

_A lane to the land of the dead_

_-W.H. Auden_

* * *

Unfortunately, there needed to be another meeting in the main hall, which Darcy had now not-so-affectionately deemed 'the War Room'. ''I hate this. We need to stop filibustering and get something accomplished. They're counting on us back at home,'' she ranted to Loki as she got dressed, struggling with the bodice of her emerald green gown. Her arms weren't nearly long enough, it seemed. Turning around, she demanded in frustration, ''Here, help me with the back of this stupid outfit. More and more its seeming like we may not get any answers at all. Or that Odin might say that there's nothing he can do. It's all getting very ''Dr. Strangelove'' and I'm not digging the gloomy fatalism.''

''What would you suggest? A happy fatalism?'' Rather than helping her fasten the back of her dress as she had requested, Loki pressed himself against her and slipped his hands underneath the fabric.

''Maybe. Or at least something more Vonnegut-esque. Hey, don't start anything right now, please,'' she scolded, elbowing him in the ribs.

''But everyone still dies in the end?'' wondered Loki, reluctantly pulling his hands away from her enticing, creamy skin and dutifully focusing on helping her with the gown.

''Not everyone.'' Darcy laughed, but the sound had a bitter edge. ''This is a pretty grim conversation, isn't it?''

He shrugged and gently spun her around to face him. ''Now, if Sif or any of the Norns try to say anything to you, just ignore them.''

Finding this rather unhelpful advice, she regarded him with a roll of her eyes.''I understand about Sif, but its a little difficult to disregard a comment from one of the people who supposedly controls the destiny of the entire universe.''

''On the contrary, I think it's quite easy. I do it all the time.'' He grinned at her, but the grin didn't reach his eyes. Darcy was certain that ignoring Fate wasn't quite as simple as Loki pretended it was.

* * *

In the hall, this time, there were less people gathered. Only Odin, Thor, Sif, and one of the Norns, Verdandi, were present in addition to Loki and Darcy. In daylight, the room seemed slightly less foreboding, the bright golden light that came streaming through the large windows leant an incredible warmth despite the heavy pall of the decisions that remained unmade.

Darcy glanced around the table. Everyone was silent and looked profoundly unhappy, except for Loki, whose face once again registered no emotion. It was as though he deliberately refrained from displaying any trace of feeling while in the company of Odin and the other Asgardians. As if he were frightened that he might reveal something, give something away that could be used against him. This silence frustrated Darcy, but primarily it made her heart ache, to see him freeze over like that, become a statue. And perhaps because of that sorrow she felt that she needed to overcompensate by boldly and loudly stepping into the midst of interdimensional politics, becoming the proverbial Ugly American. But Darcy didn't care how she might be perceived at this point and so she was the first to speak, anything to slice through this chilly, blank silence.

''Ok, Thor destroyed the Bifrost, right?'' she began, false enthusiasm clinging to each word like flies to overripe fruit. Thor's ears perked up and he nodded, listening with encouragement, or at least humoring her. Sif responded with an eye-roll, wanting desperately, Darcy knew, to make some sort of cutting remark, or accuse her of not knowing her place. She deliberately ignored the look, as Loki had suggested earlier. ''And that was one of the things that set this all in motion,'' Darcy continued. ''But it's theoretically possible to travel the worlds without one—the shamans can do it, Odin brought all of us here...isn't it possible that we could somehow...make repairs? Sew the fabric of everything back together? Readjust something?''

''_Readjust_ something?'' Odin let out a harsh cough of laughter. The sound reverberated fiercely off of the walls. ''Shuffle the cosmos like a deck of cards? Be serious, child.''

Darcy was truly beginning to hate everyone constantly referring to her as a child. ''I am serious! We have to be able to change something. Or then why can't we somehow create a bridge to take us back before anything went wrong?'' This suggestion seemed idiotic, even to her, but she was furiously throwing out whatever idea came into her head, simply because she couldn't stand not doing anything.

''I believe that would create something that Jane once called a 'paradox,' '' Thor interjected. He looked proud of himself.

Odin merely seemed thoughtful. ''But where did it go wrong?'' the old warrior asked Darcy directly, his single blue eye boring into her like a cigarette against the palm of a hand. ''Really, can you answer that? Can you know with absolute certainty the precise moment or event in time to alter? The genesis of all that we are now facing? Naturally, if you had only one chance, you'd want to get it right or you might find that you haven't changed anything or that you've made it spectacularly worse.'' He sighed as Darcy's face fell, the sound like ashes.

''Oh, the naïve belief that you can find a loophole that doesn't become a slipknot in the end...'' Odin chuckled to himself, almost sadly. ''I admire your tenacity and your passion, I do,'' he told Darcy, his voice very nearly tinged with kindness. ''But you _must_ have more respect for the boundaries of nature. The kind of alteration that you are asking for is all but impossible without the most extreme of sacrifices.''

''What kind of sacrifices?'' Darcy asked softly. There was absolute silence in the room.

''Just know that they are required,'' Odin replied in a calm tone. ''And if you want something badly enough, it should hardly matter. Nothing comes free. You must be willing to give up anything at any time, never being allowed the choice as to what or when, leaving it to the province of Fate, where it belongs. That's what sacrifice is, child.'' He rapped his knuckles on the table for emphasis. ''The stuff of great tragedy and great love. And those who seek out the gods, who seek out our worlds, learn this sooner or later. And they don't always like what they find.''

''But we still need to make a decision,'' Sif spoke up urgently. ''We're running out of time.'' _No shit, that's what I keep saying_, Darcy thought sourly. Then, seemingly out of the ether, an idea sprang sharply into the forefront of her mind like a slap.

''The Tesseract,'' blurted Darcy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki visibly flinch at the exclamation, the first movement of his face since the meeting had began. _I'm sorry,_ she whispered into his mind, _but it's an option._ ''It's unlimited energy. It helped to tear the universe apart, so it can also put it back together.''

Sif drew in a sharp, mean breath at this suggestion, but was quieted with a single glance from the Allfather.

''I can see now why Loki is so enamored of you. You're as stubborn as he is.'' Odin glared at Darcy, then at the god of mischief, who was still maddeningly silent. ''The Tesseract needs a very specific vessel to channel it for a specific purpose, and even then, it will do only what it wants. You can't just toss it around and expect it to obey.''

''I know that,'' Darcy replied, and with all the bravery that she could muster, continued, ''That's not what I asked. Theoretically, could it work?''

''Of course. Of course it could work.'' The ancient warrior didn't say anything else, but his eyes were rather grim.

''Three more days,'' spoke Verdandi, holding up her thin fingers. Her voice sounded like the wind, airy and clear. ''That is all the time left to decide.''

* * *

After the meeting abruptly ended with Verdandi's declaration, Darcy ran back to Loki's room, straight to the bookcase. She pulled down stack after stack of books and sat on the floor with them, flipping crazily through each of the ancient, yellowed pages, the strange maps and diagrams, the miles of unfamiliar runic text. She was like a madwoman, her blood felt like it was tap-dancing with rage and fire. The door swung forcefully open, and Loki stormed in.

''What are you trying to do?'' he asked her furiously, running a hand through his hair in weary frustration. His eyes looked like the breakers on a wave.

''I'm trying to save us, what are you trying to do?'' Darcy exclaimed in response, turning pages so furiously that they were nearly wrenched from their spines. ''You barely say a damn word when we're in those meetings...hardly anyone does except me! And you guys are supposed to be _gods_, you're supposed to have _answers_! Why am I doing all the thinking?'' She slammed the book closed and then threw it to the floor. ''I can't read these unless you teach me how.''

He sighed. ''You're becoming hysterical. Even if I did, they wouldn't help. They're just old tomes full of legends and spells. I don't know what you're expecting to find.'' He hesitated a moment, then added, ''And Darcy...I have the sense that Odin is testing you somehow.''

''Testing me? Why, what for?''

''I'm not certain, but it worries me. I don't pretend to understand the Allfather's plan, but he and those three crones already know exactly what's going to happen. It's already been decided, probably long ago.'' For all that he claimed to be able to ignore fate, Loki's expression had grown quite troubled, almost childlike. For a moment, he looked very lost.

''Well then what is it? What's going to happen?''

''We can't know. But whatever it is, it has already begun.'' His voice sounded heavy and jagged, like sharp stones.

Darcy got to her feet and paced angrily. ''I don't buy it. Then this is all some kind of weird, elaborate ruse to...to what...keep us running in circles? Why the hell are we here if they already know what's going to happen? And why haven't they told us?''

He shook his head. ''That's what concerns me. Unfortunately, now all we can do is keep our eyes and ears open and watch this thing play itself out. If Verdandi was correct, then we'll find out soon enough.''

She glared at him, her expression stormy. ''I don't accept it. I think that's a bullshit cop-out, especially for you. Damn gods and fates jerking everyone around just for the hell of it, withholding information just to watch us squirm, dangle like worms on the ends of hooks!And you're putting up with it! Aren't you supposed to be like, the rebel badass of this group? All _I wanna be anarchy_?'' She half-heartedly attempted at a gritty English accent, but it fell flat.

''Fighting it isn't going to change the fact that its true,'' Loki replied. ''And the Sex Pistols were overrated,'' he added with a slight sneer.

''I'm not fighting it. I'm saying _I don't believe _it. You can't make people believe things they don't want to, no matter how much evidence you may have. We're still gonna keep on making excuses to believe the way we do. It's called cognitive dissonance, and it's the way many people on Earth cope with the insanity that is daily life. Our minds are the one place where we have free will. That's why the idea of losing them is so terrifying.''

''And yet you willingly opened yours to me.'' He smiled at her sideways, sending her blood spinning. Her mind wasn't the only thing she'd willingly opened for him.

She made a show of casually shrugging. ''Better the devil you know.''

He laughed. Darcy loved the way Loki looked when he really laughed—not maniacally, not bitterly—but honestly. Even some small amount of joy on his face was rare enough to be beautiful.

''And the Sex Pistols weren't overrated,'' she countered. ''They were just unfortunate. Punk rock was an ugly business back then.''

''But real.''

Darcy threw her arms up in exasperation. ''Is it only real when someone dies?''

''That's the _only_ time it's real. Once it stops being safe. Once you realize that you're not playing at a game, not putting on a costume and acting a part. It only hurts when its real. Love is the same, I suppose.'' He sank down into the chair by the open window, stretching out his long legs. A chilly breeze ruffled his hair.

''Is there going to be a storm?'' asked Darcy with a slight shiver, wrapping her arms around herself. ''It feels like there is.''

Without taking his eyes off of her, Loki reached up and shut the window with a forceful bang. ''Come here.''

The expression on his face was both pleading and deadly serious. Begging and demanding. These were the two states he knew best, and he knew them very well. Sighing, she crossed the room until she was standing right in front of him. Leaning forward slowly, the god reached out his hands to grab her by the waist and yank her towards him gently but with enough urgency to make her cry out in quiet, unexpected delight.

The idea that she might lose him left Darcy full of a numb, heavy dread. The sensation pummelled her with its weight. What hurt more was the sense that she might truly be powerless, just a disposable piece being moved across a giant board at the whims of the fates. This was not a comfortable thought at all, it felt like a shard of glass lodged in her spleen. And so, with all of her strength, she denied and ignored it, pushing it far back into a dark corner in both of their minds and burying it there until she couldn't feel it anymore. Putting her hands on Loki's shoulders for support, Darcy climbed onto the chair so that she faced him, straddling him with her legs, though it was slightly difficult in the long dress.

''Everything changed so fast,'' she murmured, looking into his eyes. She could feel time moving, crawling along her skin like ants, each second now announcing its presence with an undeniable chill, the sound of icicles falling to the ground and shattering. Darcy thought back to the question that Odin had asked her earlier, _'But where did it go wrong_?'

She tried to ask something, but it stuck in her throat. She tried again. ''What if it's...me?'' Her voice was quiet. Loki stared back at her curiously. ''I mean,'' Darcy continued, fumbling for the words, ''what if I'm the piece in all of this that's wrong? Think about it...since I moved into that apartment and started working with SHIELD, things just went from funny to strange to apocalyptic pretty damn fast, don't you think? What if I'm actually some kind of chaos magnet?'' The thought was crushing. It squeezed all the air from her lungs.

''And what if you are?'' he responded after a moment, running his hands soothingly up and down the sides of her body. ''What could you possibly do about that? You must stop trying to control everything, you're making yourself miserable. But just so we're clear, I want you to know that I don't believe it. I just think that you have, for whatever reason, a tendency to find yourself wandering into the middle of some very bizarre situations. And I, for one, am certainly glad of it.''

Darcy sat with this though for a moment, then another question trampled through her mind, eagerly demanding an answer.''Why did you come back to earth at all, after what happened? Why did Odin let you?''

''It was a mutual decision between Midgard and Asgard, I had no say in it. The Allfather told me that my true punishment would reveal itself in time, and that meanwhile I should make amends by being useful, by working for the people I had attempted to destroy. Thor, Fury and the rest of those...Avengers also felt that things were safer for them if they knew where I was at all times. They didn't want me free to roam the cosmos, looking for more armies to lead against them.'' Loki laughed mirthlessly, his eyes icing over slightly at the edges.

Finding herself suddenly very tired, Darcy let out a sigh. ''I swear, it seems that all you gods and fates ever do is begin wars, punish each other, and fuck with everyone. No wonder the universe is imploding.'' She leaned her head down on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

''If we never make it back to Earth, you know what I'm gonna miss the most?'' she asked, after a moment.

He shook his head. ''What?''

''Starbucks,'' replied Darcy.

Loki laughed, the sound genuine. ''Thor mentioned many times that he was quite enamored of Midgardian coffee drinks. He was, however, confused as to why they were an integral part of the worship of a mermaid goddess.''

''She's not a mermaid, she's a siren. You know, one of those beautiful women on a rock out at sea that calls sailors to their doom? And the name's from _Moby Dick, _another gloomy, fatalistic book.''

''Does everyone die at the end?''

''Not everyone. Almost, though.'' Darcy considered this for a moment. ''When you think about it like that, I guess Starbucks is pretty depressing too.''

''Maybe most things are, when you break the symbolism down to its core.'' The god spoke casually, rather unfazed by this notion.

''I'm still gonna miss it, though.''

''Of course you are.''

He held her like that until she fell asleep.

* * *

She knew that she was going into a nightmare, but it didn't matter, she went deliberately, because Verdandi had told her that she must. Somewhere inside that nightmare there was knowledge, and she needed to find it. First, she had to go further. She had to go alone. As Darcy wandered down the path, she chanted softly to herself, _'it's only a dream, it's only a dream_' and continued walking, passing the well that she had seen before. The road slowly changed, the sky grew even darker, the mean purpled blue-black of a bruise. Overhead, a bird circled, as if it were following her. She breathed deeply to calm herself. Up ahead, there stood the blurry outline of a human figure. _It'sonlyadreamit'sonlyadream_. Its head was bowed, and it wore a long, hooded black cloak. Darcy walked closer. The being slowly raised its hooded head, and Darcy clamped a hand down over her own mouth to keep from making a sound. It was female, looked almost childlike, perhaps around thirteen years old. Half of her face was pale and lovely, with green eyes and sculpted cheekbones. The other half was a rotted mess of decomposition, large chunks of flesh disintegrating to reveal the skeleton beneath. She didn't say a word, just pointed with her hand. Darcy followed her finger to the ground, where the earth had been turned to reveal two small, freshly dug graves.

''Wha—'' she started, her heart beating so fast it made her seasick.

The half-rotted little girl moved her lips, maybe trying to smile, maybe trying to speak. Then Darcy heard her.

''Your children are dead,'' she said.

_It's only a dream, it's only a dream, it's only a dream_

''I don't have any children,'' Darcy managed to whisper in a shaking voice.

The girl shook her head. ''Not anymore.''

That was enough. ''Loki!'' Darcy screamed into the grey air. ''Loki, _I need you now_!''

Out of nowhere, a familiar hand reached out, clamped down over her wrist and pulled and then she felt as though she was crashing through a pane of glass. Nauseated and dizzy, she blinked crazily as she found herself once again in Loki's room, now lying on the bed. He was next to her, and he looked absolutely furious. ''What were you thinking?'' he demanded in a low voice. ''You must be more careful. You're too untrained to be journeying out so far. Don't you understand...it's _not_ just a dream! There are dangers there just waiting to catch you off guard, waiting to swallow you.'' He paused a moment, breathing heavily, trying to will himself to calm down. She looked for him through the blue shadows of the room, reached out a hand to wrap her fingers around his wrist. After a moment, she felt the tension and anger drain away, felt his pulse slow as he sighed and pressed his cool forehead against hers.

''I feel like Little Red Riding Hood,'' Darcy admitted, visibly shaken. Her shoulders were trembling, her skin chilly and covered in goosebumps and sweat.

''Little Red Riding Hood got off easy, as I understand,'' responded the god with a wry smile, pulling her into a tight embrace.

''Loki, she got _eaten_.''

''Trust me, it's not the worst thing that could happen out there. You mustn't believe the things that you see or hear. It could be a trap, meant to confuse you.'' His tone of voice was serious.

Darcy shuddered deeply, considering this for a moment. ''I saw some horrible things...it was...'' she broke off, swallowed. ''Never mind. I don't want to think about it. We live in a very disturbing universe, don't we?'' She reached up a hand and threaded her fingers through his hair.

Loki nodded. ''At best it's indifferent, at worst it actively seeks out blood. All of the worlds are like that, I think, at their core.''

She leaned in even closer, could feel his cool breath on her skin. ''They say that you lie. That you're the god of lies, in fact. So how come you've never lied to me?'' Darcy slid her hands over the planes of his face, tracing the sharp contours of his cheekbones with her fingertips. She'd never before been so fascinated by anyone physically before. She never got tired of exploring him with her entire being. Maybe that was because he was a god, an alien, something foreign and feared. A construct, a daydream, or a nightmare. Something that you brushed the edges of as you were falling asleep, then promptly forgot. It felt interesting to be able to touch something like that, to have it be real. So she had to keep reminding herself that it was—that he was—real and solid. You only needed to look close enough at him to see that Loki clearly wasn't human. He had such cold, pale skin. His eyes were an unearthly shade, colors clearly not made by nature. He was beautiful in the most frightening way possible. Because he was real. And she'd felt him inside and out, touched and tasted him, been inside of his memories, where the truth was, where the madness had lived.

''I never needed to lie to you,'' he explained. ''You don't have any agenda. You're a stubborn, honest person, and you have a good heart. You don't play games.''

''It's funny you say that, because it's what I'm constantly being accused of. 'Playing at a dangerous game,' that's all I hear. I just want to know what the hell kind of game _they're_ all playing, cause frankly it seems a lot more dangerous than falling in love and trying to save the world.'' Mentally, Darcy bit her tongue after realizing what she'd just partially admitted to. She hoped in vain that he hadn't noticed, and of course he had, but to make it easier he didn't mention it, just smiled.

''Tell me a story,'' she said, trying to stop time with her mind, slow it to a slothlike crawl so that these moments of peace might last longer than the rest. _Three more days_. And then what? She tried desperately not to think of it, tucking herself into his embrace, pulling his arm across her chest.

He smiled against Darcy's hair, strangely touched by her motions, by the fact that she wanted to always pull him closer. It made him feel warm. ''All right. Once, many years ago, by your standards, before you were even born, I visited Midgard on a whim. Now I'd been there quite a few times before, naturally, however this time I went simply because I was bored of Asgard. I went to London—a city I rather liked, by the way—and took in the changing culture. I met quite a few interesting people...''

The story wove on, Darcy laughing loudly at certain anecdotes, and shaking her head at others, until she was nodding off to the hypnotic cadence of Loki's voice. She was blissfully relaxed, wanting only to sleep and not have to dream of ghoulish half-dead creatures, eerie pathways and guarded wells.

She did, at first. The dream began interestingly enough. Darcy found herself inside a smoky, dingy nightclub, a hole in the wall full of rather dirty-looking young people, all wearing various styles of ripped clothing, severe eye makeup and hair in multicolored shades, teased and spiked into impossible styles. Everything was noisy and nasty and wonderful. The air smelled like sweat and happy anger. Drifting through the crowd like a ghost, Darcy grinned widely as she noticed a familiar figure across the room, loitering casually against the wall. He wore incredibly tight black pants and a ripped t-shirt that exposed an expanse of lean, sculpted chest, a cigarette in his hand and a devious smile on his face. His raven hair was shorter, stuck out in bizarre angles away from his head, and he had what looked like a safety pin jabbed through one of his earlobes. There were the cheekbones, the eyes, the grin. _Loki_. He looked fantastic, like he was having the time of his life, all mischief and anarchy and sex. She tried to move closer, but as she did, Darcy felt as though she was stuck in quicksand. The sound dulled around her, everything began to move in slow motion, except for one person, a woman who emerged out of the shadows from the other side of the club. She wore tall boots that were scuffed and splattered with mud, ripped fishnet stockings and a leather miniskirt. Her messy mane of hair was nearly white. She raised her head and stared at Darcy, her pale face and eyes now appallingly familiar beneath mountains of heavy kohl and mascara. It was the third Norn, Urd, the one who hadn't yet spoken to her. But now, the woman opened her darkly lipsticked mouth and said, in a desert voice, ''Did you think you could hide from us here? Wherever you go, we are there.''

''Why can't you and your stupid sisters just leave us alone?'' Darcy practically screamed in frustration.

''You can't be left alone, dear. And neither can he. None of them can. Not now, not then. Never.''

''Why not?''

''Because someone has to decide. Decide which threads to cut, which to keep. Which to weave into a larger pattern.'' Urd reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out a cigarette, her movements exhausted and yet graceful as she struck a match against the heel of her boot and lit it.

''You think your lives so hard,'' she continued, taking a drag off of the cigarette and leaning against one of the few tables scattered all around the tiny, cramped interior of the club. Time had now completely frozen itself, everyone around remained in some sort of suspended animation. There was a shot glass full of amber liquid on the table. Urd picked it up and downed it with a swift gulp. ''You all don't understand how good you have it,'' she complained, her voice bitter and resigned, like vinegar. ''Your lives have a limit, and a plan. Why can't you just let it play itself out? Why do you all rage and fight for your imagined freedoms?''

''Because they're _not_ imaginary. And because I'm not comforted by the idea of a few weird women being the only ones who control the fate of the entire cosmos. That's too much power. It's like an...an oligarchy, or something.''

''My, my,'' Urd said mockingly, bringing the cigarette to her lips again, ''what big words you have! Someone must have gone to college.'' Smoke trailed out of her nostrils, giving her a brief, dragon-like appearance. ''We only do what must be done. Left to your own devices, your realm and all the others would have died out long ago. There is a careful order to all things.''

''Screw your order!'' Darcy yelled, taking a step forward. She wished fervently that she could zap the Norn with her taser until she glowed in the dark.

Urd smiled an ugly smile. ''I admire your enthusiasm, but don't waste your strength.'' She ground her cigarette out beneath the toe of her boot. ''You and your Lord of Misrule will kneel soon enough.'' She shook her head. ''In the end, you always do.''

* * *

Darcy awoke from her dream still trembling with anger. She was alone in Loki's bed, the shadows dimly painting the walls in bluish light. Everything still smelled of smoke, whisky, and the past, somehow. Getting up out of bed, Darcy slipped her shoes on and left the room. She headed down the hall until she located the path that led out to the garden, desperately needing some fresh air.

She passed Heimdall, the gatekeeper. His back was to her, he stared out surveying the horizon. ''I don't think you quite understand what you're getting into,'' he said in a deep voice without even turning around. Of course, Darcy thought to herself. Because it wouldn't be a day on Asgard if someone didn't remind that she didn't understand anything.

''How would you know?'' she asked, not even bothering to fake politeness anymore.

He seemed almost amused at her exasperation. ''I know because I can see much farther than you. Many of us here can. You should listen.''

''Then why do I get the feeling that everyone here is lying about something? Or at the very least, withholding information?''

''If we are guilty of such then it is only for your own good,'' Heimdall told her firmly.

''You know, I'm really sick and tired of everyone telling me what's for my own good, or what's bad for me, or who. I can make up my own mind, I can decide these things for myself. I am not a child! You gods are just a bunch of...of...benevolent dictators!'' Darcy exclaimed angrily, her hands clamped into tight fists at her sides. She recalled her semi-drunken conversation with Natasha Romanov just moments before she'd met Loki, their discussion of ruling tactics. ''But it doesn't work. We have free will!''

''Do you? Or maybe you only believe that because we told you to?'' The question wasn't asked meanly, just honestly, and this made Darcy all the more angry, particularly after the conversation she'd had with Urd in her dream.

''I hate it here.'' She whispered, a sigh, a hiss.

He looked at her, almost sadly and with great compassion, though she didn't understand why. ''It won't be much longer,'' he said, then turned away to stare at the sky.


	13. Chapter 13

It was growing steadily darker; all of the warm colors had gone out of the sky, which was unusual for Asgard, even at night. After her disheartening conversation with Heimdall, Darcy had taken a very long walk around through the gardens, trying to shake off all the emotions that were threatening to choke her. As she wandered through the rustling, curling vines and ferns, she heard a faint sound slice the quiet, almost like singing. Darcy followed it down the path and into a smaller garden, where she could see the outline of a person seated on a stone bench.

There, sitting in the spectral, fading shadows of late evening was Jane. She was sitting alone, wearing a long nightdress that flapped in the insistent, chilly breeze. Her feet were bare and dirty, her hair hung in limp strands around her pale, now-gaunt face. She was humming to herself as she rocked back and forth, staring straight ahead, eyes glazed over and utterly lost.

_''Whither, o whither, o whither so high? To brush the cobwebs out of the sky, to brush the cobwebs out of the sky_'', the scientist sang, in that now-familiar childlike voice that Darcy dreaded so. Jane barely resembled herself, anymore, she looked like a floating shell, an apparition.

''Jane?'' Darcy moved closer. The other woman made no motion to suggest that she knew she was no longer alone, her eyes remained staring forward. ''Jane, it's me. It's Darcy.'' Nothing. Not even the vaguest glimmer of recognition. Tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes, but there was no time for that. ''Why are you out here all alone?'' she cried her voice rising into a panicked cadence. ''Where's Thor? Where's Eir?''

Silence for a long moment. The breeze was now officially a wind, and a cold one at that. Jane's thin nightgown whipped at her ankles, her hair was tossed in dark slashes across her face. ''Come on,'' Darcy said, taking her friend gently by the arm and pulling her to her feet. ''You have to get inside, you're going to freeze.''

Jane leaned her head back and stared up at the sky. ''They've taken the stars away again,'' she observed and with a sinking heart, Darcy looked up and saw that she was, in fact, correct. All of the stars in Asgard's prismatic sky had vanished, leaving only hues in increasingly bleaker patterns and shapes, mirroring the sky over New York City, just before they had left.

The scientist's movements were spastic and shuffling, those of a sleepwalker. She was completely disoriented, she was like a dreaming child. Putting an arm tightly around her for support and to block the steady, ever-colder wind, Darcy led Jane slowly back along the path towards the main hall, but the other woman was now rapidly drifting into unconsciousness, lolling into dead weight, more than was easily manageable. _Loki, wherever you are, I could sure use your help right now_, she thought loudly, dialing up the volume of her mind and utilizing their connection, which was proving to be quite useful in sticky situations. Sure enough, just a few moments later, he appeared in the doorway just as Darcy struggled over with Jane.

''What...where was she?'' he asked, rushing to help. The god seemed more than a little taken aback by Jane's ghostly, wraith-like appearance and Darcy's tearstained face. ''She was in the garden, just sitting out there by herself, singing a nursery rhyme. Loki,'' she added, gripping his arm, ''look at her. She's...she's _gone_.''

''I can see that,'' he answered grimly. He lifted the now-sleeping scientist off of Darcy's shoulder and into his arms. ''Come on, let's get her back inside to Eir. My brother will want to know about this, I think.''

The Healer and two of her attendants were hurrying into the great hall just as the three arrived inside. Eir's ever-calm demeanor seemed rattled. Without a word, the attendants briskly but carefully took Jane from Loki and then rushed her out of the room and back to the Healing Chambers.

''How did she get out?'' demanded Darcy, her hands trembling. ''She could have gotten hurt!''

''She isn't a _prisoner_,'' Eir replied frostily. ''She can certainly come and go as she pleases, though I must admit I don't understand how she managed to even get out of bed. She's been sleeping for the better part of two days.''

''She didn't even know who I _was_,'' Darcy said, and her voice cracked like porcelain.

Eir shook her head, though her expression softened minutely. ''We are losing her, as I told you. She doesn't know who you are, or who she is, or where.''

''No, no...no, she _has_ to come back. She'll come out of it, right...like before? She...''

The healer continued to shake her head as Darcy crumpled to the floor, overcome by a suffocating wave of sadness. She hadn't seen Jane since they'd arrived, and to witness the extent of the change, of the damage to her friend's brilliant mind, had been a devastating experience. Any trace of hope that she might have had was washed away in a cold, fierce tide.

''Get out, get out now, you're _useless_!'' Loki snarled at Eir. The sharpness of his voice made Darcy's skin sting.

The blonde woman scowled at him, though her eyes did flash with a certain amount of regret. ''I only told the truth. Would you rather I lie? Perhaps _you_ would, but I adhere to higher standards than that.'' She drew herself up regally, and then turned to exit the room. After a few steps, she turned back with a reluctant flutter, for just the briefest moment. ''I _am_ sorry, Darcy,'' she said, quietly and sincerely. And then she was gone.

* * *

**Day 1: **_**The Gloaming**_

_I do spy a kind of hope,_

_Which craves as desperate an execution_

_As that is desperate which we would prevent_

_-_**Romeo and Juliet** Act IV, Scene I

* * *

Darcy had held to a naïve shred of hope that when she woke up, she would find that the events of the previous evening had all been another nightmare. However, once she cracked an eye open and looked out the window, she knew. It had all been real. Loki was standing at the bookcase, thumbing through an old volume. Without even looking up from the page, he flicked two of his fingers and the curtains snapped closed, blocking her view of the encroaching storm. ''Don't look out there,'' he said, ''there's nothing to see.''

''You're right,'' she whispered, and a tear trickled down her face. She wiped it away, then asked ''Does Thor know about...about how sick Jane has gotten?''

Loki set the book down and nodded. ''I spoke with him last night. It was not a comfortable conversation. I always thought that I lived to see Thor beaten, broken, devastated. I must really be going soft because it felt rather awful to witness him in that state. I've never seen him so hopeless. He really, genuinely loves her.''

''It's like you said, it only hurts when its real,'' Darcy offered. Then she pushed back the covers with a manic fervour, snapping into rough alertness. ''I'm getting dressed and I'm going to the Healing Chambers. If there's any more bullshit meetings today, I won't be in attendance. If these are my last three days on this or any other planet, I'm not going to spend them going round in circles and not getting anywhere. All the rest of them are just laughing at us at this point, it seems.'' She threw her nightclothes on the ground and stormed over to the wardrobe where she had stashed some of the dresses from the room she'd been given on the first night they'd arrived on Asgard. Since then, she'd been sleeping in Loki's room, not really giving much of a fuck what anyone might think if they found out.

She went furiously through the selections, yanking out a silk, amethyst colored gown, Loki watching her as she did so. She was completely naked, but her movements were far from sensual, they were cold and angry. Like a line drawing, all limited and sharp, lacking the fluidity that he had come to associate with Darcy, with the way that she existed. His Darcy lived amid a wild blur of color, soft curves and many dimensions.

He moved closer to her. ''Do you think that Eir will let you in?''

''She damn well better. She _damn_ well better. This might be one of the last chances I get to see my best friend. And I don't care whether Jane knows who I am or not, I want to see her before...before we're all gone.'' Darcy defied the tears that desperately wanted to fall. She'd cried so much the past few days, and where had it gotten her? No, she didn't have time for that.

She slid the fabric over her head and slowly worked at doing up all of the ties. Her fingers moved quietly, meditatively, like she was wrapping herself up in a magic curtain, in armor. When she was done, Darcy pushed back her hair, letting it tumble back over her shoulders, and took a long look at herself in the large mirror on the wall.

Soon, a second face joined hers there, and Loki fastened his fingers on her shoulders and turned her around. The anguish that he could see hiding behind her eyes felt like a knife against his skin. ''There's no need for this. You cannot let them do this, you cannot let them break you. I'm cold. You know that. I was born in a world covered in ice and part of me will always be thus. I need you to be warm for me. Don't let them take that.''

He leaned down, his mouth hovered over hers for what seemed like a thousand quiet years. ''Maybe that's why I love being inside of you,'' he murmured. ''When you want me, when you call for me. Hearing your voice crying out my name in your head, almost like you're praying.'' He paused, tilting her face up towards him. Her full bottom lip trembled delicately as she tried not to cry. ''Nobody ever prayed to me, they were too afraid. Nobody has ever worshipped me. There are no shrines. Nobody dared to invite in a presence such as mine. My love,'' he said, and her eyelids fluttered softly closed at the words like butterfly wings. One treacherous tear fell, cutting across her face, ''you have no idea how lonely it's been.''

* * *

Perhaps Eir was feeling slightly guilty about the events of the previous evening, because for the very first time, she relented and allowed Darcy through the doors of the Healing Chambers. The aura of the place was very different from anywhere else she'd been on Asgard. Her instant impression was one of peace and familiarity. It felt safe in there, the light was softer, and the shadows didn't seem to be alive. It was like regressing back to the womb. Everything was muted and warm.

''Why do I get the weirdest feeling that I've been here before?'' Darcy asked as she looked around.

Eir smiled. ''Well, healing is a very personal experience, and it works on many levels. Physical, mental, spiritual...what is healing to one person might do very little for another. So we designed these rooms to attune themselves to the energetic structure of each patient, for their own comfort.''

Eir paused a moment before adding, ''Or perhaps you have been here before, in another time, or another form.''

''That's impossible. I didn't even know these worlds existed up until like a year ago.''

''That's what you think, because that's how a mortal mind processes these things. But you no longer have simply a mortal mind—or its limits. Now, you can see.''

Darcy blinked, rather confused by that statement. ''I...I still have a mortal mind,'' she insisted. ''I just...we're just temporarily...''

Eir drew in a breath and then folded her hands. ''It's not temporary. Not anymore. Loki perhaps intended it to be but something has caused a more complete fusion. I saw the connection, the first time that I met you. It's very strong, _too_ strong, almost, glowing all around you like a halo.''

''I've been worried,'' Darcy confessed. ''I've been having these weird nightmares that are starting to get much too real. Are you sure that I'm not getting sick?''

''You're not getting sick the way that Jane is, no. And really, you aren't sick at all.'' Eir fixed her pale blue eyes firmly on the younger woman. ''They're not nightmares. They're not dreams. I'm sorry to tell you this, but everything that _you_ are seeing is real.''

''That's not really what I wanted to hear,'' Darcy admitted.

''I know,'' replied Eir.

There was silence for a long moment. ''Are you scared?'' Darcy asked the healer.

''Even if I was,'' she responded calmly, ''it wouldn't make a difference. Events happen regardless of the way we feel about them.''

* * *

The bed in the Healing Chamber where Jane lay was nothing like any hospital bed that Darcy had ever seen. It more resembled a pod, a pod that seemed, if not alive then at least very nearly _aware_. There were no monitors, no beeping sounds. The capsule glowed and pulsed every few moments with changing, colored light. Jane was deeply asleep.

''They don't think that you're going to wake up again,'' Darcy said, staring down at her friend. ''But I know that you are. Maybe you can't hear me, maybe you can. I'm afraid. I'm really afraid and I wish that you weren't just...lying there like that. I am so sorry that this is happening, Jane, and if I could do anything to stop it, I would. But nobody is listening to me, and the clouds are here now, too...''

She broke off and covered her eyes, cried out with wracking sobs so forceful that she stopped breathing for a moment. ''Remember back in New Mexico that one time when we all got really drunk on tequila and listened to Bruce Springsteen?'' A long moment passed. Darcy scrubbed at her face with the silk sleeve of her gown and laughed, though the tears were still falling. ''And Erik was trying to sing ''Thunder Road'' but he kept fucking up the lyrics? That was fun. We should do that again, sometime.'' She sat down on the floor, leaning her head against the edge of the healing capsule, which still glowed like a lightning bug. She closed her eyes and listened, reaching out to see if she could hear any flicker of consciousness from Jane, tried to locate her lost essence. There was nothing, only the soft illumination of the chamber. ''I hope that wherever you are they have lots of stars to look at,'' Darcy whispered.

* * *

Later that evening, a visitor arrived, just as it began to snow. He and Odin spoke together for a long while, behind closed doors. Except for the sound of flames in the fireplace and the occasional sound of footsteps out in the corridor, everything was quiet. Not serene, not ominous, simply a pervasive absence of sound. Darcy sat in the Hall, a cup of ale next to her, and a large, old text spread out open on the table. Loki was sprawled in a chair beside her, observing the crackling fire, thinking. She turned a page, trying to memorize the shapes of all of the runes, tracing each one with her finger.

''You can't even read that,'' he said.

''I know,'' she replied, ''but for some reason, its familiar. And I feel like if I stare at these letters enough...I'll just...know how to read them.''

Darcy reached for the ale and as she did so, Loki motioned with his hand and the cup slid quickly away from her and over to him. ''_Do_ let me know how that works out for you,'' he said dryly, lifting it and taking a sip. Then he paused, listened. Turned his head to the doorway to discover that they weren't alone.

Their visitor, the one who had apparently been seeking council with Odin, was hideous, there was no other word for him. He was short, with papery, jaundiced skin, slightly pointed ears, and eyes that were a disturbing shade of yellow. They deepened when he saw Darcy, deepened to nearly the exact color of vomit, she noted with revulsion.

''Oh, my...so interesting to see you both again.'' The stranger's voice was a rattling hiss. ''Loki, you're looking very well, after all of your...misadventures. And here,'' he said, moving alarmingly close to Darcy. ''Such a beauty. Such...a waste.'' His voice took on an eerie quality, then, his ugliness deepened into malevolence.

'Little girl, little girl, trapped in glass and snow. I'd like to keep you there myself, if I could...'' the awful being said around a smile full of ugly, jagged teeth. He reached out a gnarled hand and attempted to touch Darcy's face when Loki quickly got to his feet and moved protectively in front of her. ''I really don't think that would be wise. Do not touch her, _ever._'' His voice was full of such venom and ice that Darcy shuddered.

The visitor chuckled, it was an ugly, wet, raspy sound. ''Oh my boy, you were always so filled with conflict. Destruction and passion. Love and death. It screams out to all of the worlds. You're more dangerous than me, than any of us. Because you are capable of too _much_ feeling. It isn't hate that makes you a threat, it never was. Hate is too dry and banal, too beneath you...hate doesn't glow as brightly.''

She really didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about, but whatever it was, it seemed to only be making Loki more angry.

''I could tell you,'' the old man continued, ''all of the possible outcomes, but then you already know. Somewhere inside, you know.'' He fixed a yellowed eye on Darcy once again, and his expression flickered with a troubling curiosity. ''But does she? I could show her. Everything that was, or could have been...''

''No,'' Loki said. The word was so soft, but full of bile and fury.

''I'm afraid so,'' the visitor insisted with a politeness that held an only thinly disguised malice.

A sudden and very strange feeling overtook Darcy. It was as if someone had wrapped their hands around her head and squeezed. She was hit with a sudden blast of tunnel vision. Her ears rang. There came the sensation of something urgently trying to claw inside of her mind. This wasn't like when her consciousness had so willingly and beautifully melded with Loki's, this was vicious, insistent. It was ugly, and it hurt. No. _No._ Never again. This place would never have her. She was so tired of nightmares, tired of Asgard. Tired of being played with like a rag doll. And so, she fought it. For Jane, and all the others on Earth who would find their reality suddenly collapsing underneath them. For Loki, and for herself. _You cannot let them break you. _She pushed back with everything, pulled all her rage and sorrow together. Melded it into a ball of psychic electricity and threw it. A low, surprised shriek echoed in her ears, and then the tunnel vision subsided. The invading force retreated. Darcy came back to herself long enough to see Loki grab the old creature roughly by the throat.

''Listen here. Listen close. I don't care what kind of treaty Odin made with you in the past, and I don't care what your purpose is here now. I promise you that if you so much as look at her ever again, you will need not fear the destruction of the realms, only me. You were right about one thing, I _am_ more dangerous than you.''

Darcy could only watch as Loki dragged the old man over to the window. ''Look there,'' he demanded, pointing to the clouds that swirled in a counterclockwise motion, ghostly shades of illuminated grey-black, at the now-falling snow. ''Do you think I fear this? Did _any_ of you ever truly believe for one moment that this would frighten me?'' He laughed wildly, menacingly, the laugh of a god pushed utterly to his limits. ''This storm is _nothing, _nothing compared to what I could unleash upon you. What I _will_ unleash upon you if you continue trying to hurt us.'' He released his grip.

The old man looked shaken, yet even uglier and meaner than before. He scowled at Loki and rubbed his throat. ''You really _are_ a bastard, aren't you. Just an absolute menace. You should have been left to die. Spared us all a bit of trouble.''

Darcy closed her eyes and heard his footsteps as he scurried out of the room like a rodent. Could hear Loki breathing, felt him trying to will himself to be calm. The sheer power that had flooded through him was absolutely catastrophic. Yet somehow beautiful. It glowed. She felt him kneel down beside her, pulling her roughly into his arms. ''Thank you for being so brave, for resisting.'' he whispered.

''I just couldn't take it anymore,'' she responded. Adrenaline was still racing through Darcy's veins, her entire body shook with it. It felt _good_. ''Everyone here feels so entitled to screw with me. _Serious _boundary issues on Asgard. And that creepy old fuck was just the last straw. I don't think these people are on our side. Something is _wrong_ here. I've had enough, Loki, I really have. I feel like...like it's a trap, somehow.''

Loki thought for a long moment, then replied simply, ''I know it is. But what if we were to wander willingly into that trap?''

''What do you mean?'' asked Darcy, with a quick raise of her eyebrow, studying his expression. Loki seemed younger to her, suddenly. He was like electricity.

''I think that we can trick the universe into repairing itself.''

* * *

''See, all of the realms were big into sacrifice back in the day, the bloodier, the better,'' Loki explained as he pulled the door closed, cloistering them safely in his room once again. ''The purer the sacrifice, the greater the result. _Tragic_, it always needed to be tragic, too. All that opera, and nonsense. I've been trying to figure it out for days, and I had my suspicions, but something that wretched old man said actually helped me confirm them.'' He took a deep breath, then looked her square in the eyes and said, ''I think that we're both meant to be sacrificed as a means of halting the destruction of Yggdrasil.''

This statement hit her like a bullet fired at point blank range. ''What do you mean _sacrificed_?'' yelped Darcy. Images of stone altars, bloody knives, and burning Wicker Men filled her mind and her stomach churned.

''Nothing _quite _so violent as anything you might be imagining. For whatever reason, Asgard tends to favor rather twisted psychological torture, or at least that's always been _my_ experience.'' He chuckled, then added, ''Remember what I told you, about how Odin said that my true punishment would reveal itself in time? I think that time is now.''

''So...what is it?'' Darcy ventured, petrified of the answer. ''What's going to happen?''

''A hefty dose of tragedy, my love,'' Loki replied, wrapping his arms around her waist.''Or as you so aptly describe it, _gloomy fatalism. _When we were back at SHIELD, after the storm first began and Jane fell ill, you were hiding underneath a desk, as I recall, researching Ragnarok. Now naturally, you have gleaned several rare insights into the reality of what Midgardians call 'Norse mythology.' '' He trailed his fingers up over her chest, tapping along the uncomfortable corset as if drumming out a rhythm. ''These garments really _are _wretched, we should get you out of them. But I digress. You know for a fact that what is written down in your world can, at times, be quite far removed from the truth. So what did you learn? Specifically, what did you learn that you found to be...contradictory?'' He continued to fumble with and poke at the bodice of her gown as he spoke.

She paused a moment, first to smack his hand away, and then to think. ''Well, for one thing, obviously, you've never been married and you don't have any kids. And until the end of the world, you were supposed to be chained up with your-'' Darcy trailed off for a moment. The horror of myth began to slide into sharp clarity, bit by bit. ''Wait. Wait. Your kids! The ones that you don't have, I mean. I think I met one of them. Little girl with a serious complexion problem. Hel.''

''I've met her too, and I swear I had nothing to do with _that._'' Loki said, making a face. ''Go on.''

''In my dream,'' Darcy continued wildly. ''I mean, the dream that wasn't a dream. And she told me that my children were dead. My children..._our_ children. And then Ragnarok...'' It all came tumbling together in a terrible rush of understanding. ''Oh _no_.The pictures in your room, the ones that you drew a long time ago...there was one of a woman holding something up. I couldn't figure out why it bothered me so much but now that I think about the myths it makes sense. I think...I think I'm your _wife. _Sigyn. At least in this weird version of the story that seems to be playing out.''

_Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce Darcy Lewis, quantum freakshow, mythological surrogate and human sacrifice, _she thought to herself. _And my mom said I'd never amount to anything. _

''They cast us in mythological roles as a sacrifice. Life imitating art. It's monstrous. It's _poetic_, really, I wish I'd thought of it,'' Loki admitted, sounding both disgusted and impressed.

''What do we do?'' This new information, though quite horrific, was actually oddly refreshing. Or rather, it filled her with an energy, a hope. The worst part of the past few days had been the creeping sensation of impending doom, without knowing what would transpire. At least now they knew what they were working with. But with this knowledge also came a pain. _How could they do this to us_? She wondered. _How could Odin even think it?_The Norns were clearly more than capable of being cold, vile, and unfeeling, but _Odin_? And what about Thor? Or Frigga? Had they all known? How long had she and Loki been part of this plan? Darcy's heart ached too much to even entertain the possibility.

Loki let go of her and paced the floor for a moment in thought. ''We're going to have to go a little Shakespearean on them,'' he said. ''We're going to have to '_undertake a thing like death_,' so to speak. It might be unpleasant. But it will be temporary. And I will be there with you the entire time.''

''What do you mean?'' Darcy's mind immediately flitted back to high school, when she'd been cast as the Nurse in a production of _Romeo and Juliet_. On opening night, the kid playing Mercutio had gotten wickedly drunk on a stolen bottle of Schnapps and had thrown up all over her after gleefully relating that ''_the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon_.'' Since then, Darcy hadn't really cared much for Shakespeare.

''In less than three days,'' began Loki, moving back to once again rest his hands gently on her, pull her close, ''we are going to save everyone by sacrificing ourselves. But only for a minute. Remember when Odin told you that using the Tesseract _could_ work but it needed a vessel to direct the energy? He was talking about me. They intend for me to use the Tesseract, knowing that I'm one of the few beings in all of the universe capable of channeling it, directing it to create a cosmic energetic shift that would reset the balance of the cosmos. But once I have done so, a rift will be created as the energies roll back. The scales have to tip. As the Allfather said, these kind of alterations demand sacrifice. And so I will remain bound in a kind of negative space, in order to hold everything together. It takes care of everything so neatly: I am locked away where I can't cause any more trouble, and more than sufficiently punished for all of my past misdeeds.''

''And what about _me_?'' Darcy asked. ''Why am I there?''

Loki's fingers reflexively tightened their grip on her waist. ''Because the Healer was right.'' He swallowed quickly and looked at the floor for a moment, the grin falling away from his face. ''I can't reverse it. The connection between our minds. It just...it became too strong. It took on a life of its own. Whatever happens to me will also happen to you. You'd be trapped there with me. And you would have to spend eternity holding up a bowl, mourning for children that you never really had, your mind unable to tell the different between reality and myth. I would have to lie there and burn and know that it was all my fault. Because that is Odin's idea of justice. You are right, my darling, we live in a fucked-up universe.''

''At best it's indifferent, at worst it actively seeks out blood,'' Darcy remembered softly. ''Seeing what the supposed 'good guys' are capable of really makes you look at so-called villains a whole lot differently.''

''I'm not a villain, I'm a rebel, don't you remember?'' He smiled. ''Don't think for a second that I've been an oblivious, silent victim this entire time, either. You never went anywhere alone. Your 'dreams', for example? I was always there, watching.''

''You were?'' Darcy found strange comfort in this.

''I have never trusted a damn word that any of the Norns ever said. They're worse tricksters than I am. They like to manipulate dreams in particular, to create a desired result, make it seem like...fate. So I always kept an eye on you, only intervening if I had to, if you called for me.''

''Oh my god, it's just like _Inception._'' Darcy shook her head with a violent understanding. ''I've been incepted. That's...that's disgusting. I feel so _violated_.''

''Those old witches have been playing you like a marionette ever since you got here. They want you to be scared and disoriented. From here on out you are going to need to be _very_ discerning.'' He leaned down closer, his lips by her ear.

''If we do this, I need you to be brave for me,'' he explained, running a hand through her hair, his breath ghosting over her skin. ''It's going to seem very real.'' His eyes darkened, not in thought, but in desire as his fingers worked slowly at the ties on the back of her dress. She breathed a little faster, he continued speaking. ''I'm fairly certain that with our combined consciousnesses, we should be strong enough to control the energy for this purpose. Exactly sixty seconds will have passed, and in those sixty seconds, the damage to Yggdrasil will begin to reverse itself. The snow will stop. The waters will recede. The earthquakes will cease. Jane and all the others will get well. The stars will reappear.'' Sufficiently loosened, the dress slid off of her shoulders and onto the floor. She sighed as his hands found her bare skin, the sensation so soothing, so welcome. ''It will be very dark. You will think that you're asleep. Then you will hear a sound like water dripping, and it will wake you. That sound will echo, over and over will stand, and you will be very frightened. Trapped in a prison with only the dimmest possible slivers of light, you will panic. Because you will feel exactly what Jane was talking about. Memory and madness will bleed together and blur. It will last for what feels like a very long time. But once that minute is over, we will be restored, safe, and together. And all will be right and merry on each and every last wretched world.''

He slid down her body until he was kneeling on the floor in front of her, trailing kisses along the soft skin of her abdomen as he did so. She couldn't tell if he was trying to distract her from the gravity of what was to come, or to apologize for it, but that didn't matter to Darcy at the moment.

''But why is it going to have to feel like such a long time?'' she asked, gripping a handful of his hair, making him look up at her. ''Can't we just spend a minute there, if that's all it takes?''

''It's as I told you, it only hurts when it's real,'' he said with a grim, lopsided smile. ''And Odin really, _really_ wants it to hurt. Think of it as a rather extreme form of method acting.'' He rested his head against her for a moment, a quiet motion that struck her with its softness and intimacy.

''So where do we go then? After the world tree is fixed, and assuming that we can create some sort of quantum loop and not get stuck there until the next apocalypse?'' She played with the ends of his hair, not really wanting to move. She could easily hold him like this forever.

''We can start wherever you like.''

''Or whenever! Can we do whenever? Travel through time and space like on _Dr. Who_?'' She giggled, and Loki gave her a crooked look.

''Don't push it, love,'' he warned and then pressed his mouth against her lower abdomen, moving slowly downward, threatening to obliterate her sense of reason. A moan escaped her throat and she yanked on his hair again to halt his movements, pulling him back to look up at her again.

''Not yet, I still have questions.''

''You and your _questions,_ your endless, ill-timed questions,'' he groaned, clutching at her.

''You and your damned _tongue _and your damned _hands,_'' she responded, smiling, keeping a tight grip on his hair, keeping his eyes locked with hers. ''Just...just hang on for a second. This is a lot to process, all of a sudden. Won't they suspect that we know something? Or what if this is all part of _their _plan, and we're just feeding into it? We might think that we can bypass this eternal punishment and get out in a minute, but what if they've already thought of that and they're like 'psych! Got you, bitches, you're here forever, haha.' '' It was a very ugly, very uncomfortable thought.

''Remember when Odin told you something about how you can't find a loophole that doesn't become a slipknot in the end?'' asked Loki.

Darcy nodded.

''Well, luckily, finding loopholes and being one step ahead of just about everyone is what I'm the best at. There's a reason that the Norns and I don't get along. But just to be on the safe side, we _are_ going to have to be very well-prepared. And we may have to do something a little extreme.''

''What is it?'' Darcy asked cautiously, though extremes didn't seem to matter much, given their current situation.

''I can't tell you just yet. But soon.'' He ran his fingers along her thigh. She reached down and slapped his hand away.

''And you really think that this will work?''

He rolled his eyes and growled in frustration. It made her wonderfully warm on the inside, knowing how much he wanted her. She liked to tease him, just a little. And she knew that he secretly liked it, too. ''I think that Odin has seriously overestimated my capacity for rehabilitation,'' he answered. ''And though he's clearly been testing you, he's underestimated you every step of the way. Specifically, _your _capacity for deviousness.''

''I don't know if I'd call myself _devious_,'' Darcy replied, though she smiled at the suggestion. ''Maybe a little bit crafty.''

''A little bit crafty, a bit of a bad girl. You do have a wild streak, love, I've witnessed it firsthand.''

''If you're talking about that one night in the window, and I think that you are, I swear I don't know what came over me,'' she said innocently, trying to hide the wicked smile that was creeping at the corners of her mouth.

''I do,'' he replied. ''Me.'' In one sudden, swift movement, Loki had gotten to his feet and lifted Darcy off of hers and into his arms. ''Now, Ms. Lewis, no more of this. As you said, we have about...two and a half days left. But tonight,'' he continued, leaning her down onto the bed and crawling over her, ''tonight, we are just going to have to practice.''

''Practice what?''

''Strengthening our connection, obviously,'' he said, with a roll of his eyes.

''Uh-huh. Are you just trying to seduce me?''

''I don't know. Why, is it working?''

''Maybe,'' she said, and then turned her head away, but she was smiling.

''You won't dream tonight, you won't travel. No more of that. I won't watch you torment yourself again,'' he said, sliding his long cool fingers over her face, threading through her hair, soothing her. ''No more shadows, no more nightmares.'' His fingers traveled down along her neck. ''Just you and I.''

She bit her lip, still trying to mask her smile. ''You have no idea how pretty you are, do you?'' He told her as he pressed a kiss against her clavicle.

''I think that you must, for whatever reason, see me differently than the way I got used to seeing myself,'' Darcy admitted. ''I remember the day that Fury called me into his office and showed your drawings to me. That day, I felt so violated, too. I couldn't believe that this guy was...was _interfering_ like that. In a place that didn't belong to him. It belonged to you and me. And he's there, all eye-patchy and intimidating, essentially telling me what I should or shouldn't be thinking and feeling and doing...I...I actually hated him for that, for just a second. Because I knew how I felt and what I wanted,'' she said, reaching out and smoothing an errant strand of hair back from Loki's face. The warmth of her skin reached every raw space inside of him.

''I liked the way that you saw me. I liked the way that you drew me. I couldn't wait to get home at the end of the day to hide and watch you walk through the door. '' She smiled widely. ''I got felt up by a crazy, enormous Eastern European woman trying to buy lingerie to...be all seductive for you and then right when I get up the nerve, your brother has to come knocking on the door.''

''Ooooh, that was an utter nightmare!'' Loki admitted, covering his face and laughing. ''I very nearly killed him, you have no idea the restraint I had to show. _That_ was a true sacrifice.'' He laughed again and again, and Darcy had never heard anything quite so beautiful in her entire life.

He stretched out on the bed, sliding down and resting his head against her belly.

''I trust you,'' she told him. ''And now, like you said, I have to go with you wherever you go, so maybe in the end, it'll be ok either way. Because I guess, even worst-case scenario, at least we'll be together, and everyone else will be safe.'' She was going to cry, damn it. But the tears didn't hurt this time, somehow. There was no bitterness, only acceptance. ''And I think, no matter what, whether it's sixty seconds or an actual eternity, I can live with that.''


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello my loves! I am so sorry about the very long gap in updates, life has been a little chaotic recently, but it seems to be calming down, thank goodness! Here is the next chapter for you, I hope that you like it! There isn't too much action, but it's setting up for what's to come. ;)**

* * *

**New York City**

An eerie quiet had begun to descend, despite the chaos that had reigned in earnest earlier in the day. Lights flickered on and off as the power stuttered, they only had a few hours left, despite all of Stark's hard work and ingenuity. Clint Barton stood and surveyed the city through a pair of binoculars. His hand trembled. A pallor had settled over his features. Natasha watched as he lowered the binoculars, rubbed his eyes, and squinted. He looked as though he was desperately trying to focus, but couldn't. He looked lost. It made her insides twist painfully.

She didn't make a sound as she moved through the thin, icy air over to him, barely even breathed. Clint was staring out at the sky, his eyes unable to really process what he was seeing. He was very still, even as she pulled out the syringe full of sedatives that Banner had given her and plunged it into his arm with a swift grace. He looked at her for one long moment of confusion, and then slumped almost gratefully into her arms as the drugs rapidly took effect.

''It's alright,'' she whispered, cradling him gently. ''Everything is going to be fine.''

* * *

**Day Two: **_The Early Hours_

_You are not wrong, who deem_

_That my days have been a dream;_

_Yet if hope has flown away_

_In a night, or in a day_

_In a vision, or in none,_

_Is it therefore the less gone?_

_-_**Edgar Allan Poe**

* * *

''And I think, no matter what, whether it's sixty seconds or an actual eternity, I can live with that,'' Darcy told Loki.

He looked up at her, pain in his eyes. ''I can't. I don't want you to have to suffer through an eternity of imprisonment because of me. I can accept everything else that I've done in the past, but that I cannot accept. We are going to be fine. This _will_ work.'' He sat up abruptly, peeled himself away from her. Darcy felt a slash of disappointment, wanted to pull him back down onto the bed, onto her body, to lose herself in him. Loneliness crawled along her skin, left her feeling pale.

''It's time to practice, as I said,'' Loki continued. ''The connection of our minds is now our most powerful asset. But though it's grown incredibly strong, it's still slightly too fragile to work as we need it to. We're going to have to channel massive amounts of energy through our combined consciousness. We can't take any chances.''

''Uh-huh,'' Darcy replied, following suit and pulling herself up into a sitting position. ''So, how do we get stronger?''

''We're going to practice a little bit of seidhr, or trance magic. This is going to be our gateway in. Remember how you wanted to know so much about those shamans?'' he smiled at her. ''Now's your chance.''

''We're going to do magic?'' asked Darcy, trying to disguise the little leap of excitement in her voice. Now _that_ could be interesting. She grew almost instantly more lively.

Loki snorted. ''I'm not going to pull a badger out of a hat in order to predict the weather, or whatever medieval nonsense you Midgardians are still clinging to, if that's what you mean.''

Darcy giggled, felt more at ease. ''It's a rabbit that gets pulled out of a hat, usually. But yeah, every February a small town in Pennsylvania _does_ rely on a giant rodent to tell everyone when spring is gonna be, so you were half-right. But neither one of those things is magic, even _Earthlings_ know that. One's illusion and the other's just silly folk tradition and an excuse to get drunk and stand out in the cold, which I guess is some people's idea of a good time. Magic is more...mysterious. And most people in my world accept that it's not real, but somehow we all wish it was.'' She bounced up and down a little on the bed. ''Let's get started. I wanna learn this trancey stuff.'' Darcy's eyes were practically sparkling. ''So where are we going?''

''Well, for starters, _we_ aren't going anywhere,'' Loki dryly explained. ''_You_ are going to use our connection to travel into my mind, into my subconscious.''

She gave him a crooked look. ''That sounds weird.''

He narrowed his eyes at her, then said in a withering tone, ''You need to develop a basic understanding of how this sort of travel works, what it's going to be like. I would rather begin this way, because it's a controlled environment, and it will also make the bond stronger, which is a necessity at this point.''

''I highly doubt that your subconscious is a 'controlled environment,' but whatever,'' Darcy grumbled, though she was still thrumming with anticipation.

''Close your eyes,'' he told her gently, taking her hands in his. ''Try to make your mind as blank as possible.''

She did so, letting her thoughts fall away, picturing only empty space. She breathed slowly in through her nose, focusing on each inhale and exhale the way she'd been taught in yoga. After what seemed like several minutes of this she felt a strange pulling sensation, followed by a feeling of near weightlessness, or rather _formlessness._ It was more than a little uncomfortable. Darcy felt like a scattered collection of atoms adrift in a sea of absolute nothing. But she continued breathing, refusing to panic, keeping herself hollow and calm until she felt what could only be described as a current beginning to pull her along. And then solidity returned slowly; she felt her feet on the ground, now standing, not sitting the way she had been when they began. Darcy tentatively opened her eyes, unsure of what she might see. She blinked, her eyes watered, feeling ultra-sensitive to the light, though there wasn't really much of it, the hallway in which she found herself standing was rather dimly lit. She was alone, it seemed. But not for long. A rustling sound of footsteps, like the crunching of dead leaves, created an echoing sound as they approached.

''Off on a walkabout, little princess?'' It was Skuld, a madwoman's smile stretching her awful, beautiful face as she moved closer with her creeping, predatory elegance. _Of course, it had to be _**her**. She was everywhere. Darcy suppressed a shudder, refusing to acknowledge the Norn. ''Let me tell you something,'' continued the beastly creature, reaching out and running her long, talon-like fingernails along Darcy's face, the gesture somehow disturbingly affectionate. Darcy remained frozen; inside her mind she replayed scenes from her favourite old movie, _My Fair Lady_.

''Nobody will ever remember you. You have no history of your own.'' Rex Harrison was trying to get Audrey Hepburn to speak like a lady. ''You will only ever be mentioned in passing, at the end of a long, sad story that will someday be completely forgotten.'' Skuld's fingernails began to press in deeper, as though she were testing the softness of Darcy's skin. _I could've danced all night, I could've danced all night...the rain in Spain stays mainly in the..._

''And then you will be remembered only as a faceless whisper of grief, the sound of wind crying between stones by the sea.'' Now the Norn had a vicelike hold on Darcy's chin, _clearly _this bitch did not like being ignored. Their faces were less than a breath apart; Skuld's eyes burned like dry ice, cold to the point of fire. _I think she's got it! By Jove, she's got it!The rain in Spain stays mainly..._

Suppressing an impassioned fury, the Norn dug her fingernails in deeper, and oh they were _sharp_, and it hurt, but Darcy vehemently refused to give any indication that she was being bothered or frightened. Apparently sensing this, Skuld decided to take it up a notch, and briefly pressed her full, icy lips against Darcy's. The kiss was like a painful, coldly stinging slap. All loneliness and misery and the mountainous, crushing weight of time. She tasted like grave dirt.

Darcy's heart skidded, her stomach swooped and dove. But she remained firm. A quick, spooky rush of bravery overtook her and she reached out and shoved Skuld back forcefully. ''I've had better,'' she told the Norn casually, and then continued walking at a calm, slow pace, refusing to look back. She was not followed.

Her surroundings seemed to shift with each step she took, altering their form as Darcy passed through. There was no sort of coherent layout to this territory, but she seemed to be going deeper, past some sort of borderland. She wandered until the shifting ceased and she found herself in a gilded room. Torches burned along the walls and filled the space with ghostly shadows. Darcy saw one of the shadows move, and realized that once again, she was not alone. A lean figure whipped its head around at the sound of her footsteps and there he was. His eyes flashed, seeming infuriated at the intrusion. An angry light illuminated them like a fire blazing in a dark window. It was Loki, all right, or at least an aspect of his subconscious. Though he seemed quite different to her: he was thinner and colder, all sharp edges and ice. Her heart felt strangled at the sight.

''How dare you?'' he demanded in a low, harsh voice, but his breath hitched slightly when he saw her. ''Who are you? What are you doing here?''

Darcy wasn't sure how to respond. She began to say something but then the words faltered and stuck in her throat. What was the proper etiquette for situations like this?

''I've...I...I was just going for a walk,'' she offered, then winced as this explanation sounded ludicrous even to her.

He was silent, almost alarmingly so, for a moment as he simply stood and stared at her. ''You seem so familiar to me,'' he offered after several seconds of jagged silence, and his gaze softened, but only the slightest bit. She hated to admit it, but this version of Loki rather unnerved her. Young and beautiful and prideful and angry. Darcy understood that everyone had different sides to them, but it was an entirely different experience to actually _see_ those sides, to have them take form and converse with her on their own. His green eyes were boring into her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

''I'm just going for a walk,'' she repeated, with a shrug of her shoulders.

He almost smirked, then all expression died away from his face as he strode closer to her, a mess of bitterness and bravado. ''I rather think not. I think that perhaps you ought to explain yourself more thoroughly.''

Darcy rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but feel the briefest chill at the serpentine gaze that he gave her. ''Where are we?'' she wondered aloud, trying to distract him and also get her bearings.

''Is this how you address your king?'' he looked at her with profound annoyance, doused in curiosity.

''You're a king?'' Darcy realized that it probably wasn't wise to argue with him, thought-form or otherwise.

''I am,'' he replied, drawing himself up regally.

She made a point of glancing around at the empty room, full of shadows. ''Where are all your subjects?''

That seemed to throw him for a moment. 'King' Loki blinked wildly, as if trying to clear his head. He took a long, furious glance around the emptiness, then back at her. A half-pained, half-menacing expression clouded over his face with the intensity of a hurricane.

''You were alone here, before I came, weren't you?'' she pressed, a tingling awareness along her skin reminding her to tread carefully.

''They must have been here...'' he whipped his head around again, dizzily searching the shadows for ghosts and finding none.

''There was nobody here, not until me,'' she told him gently.

A long, awful moment passed as he considered her words. ''Get out,'' he ordered her in a deceptively quiet voice, turning away.

* * *

Loki was aware of Darcy's presence wandering delicately through his subconscious, he could feel her footsteps like a heartbeat. It was comforting, though a deep, icy fear had taken up residence inside of him. This was a necessary exercise, but an intimate one. They couldn't take any chances, couldn't find themselves falling prey to any trickery or illusion. This inexplicably powerful bond that connected them, it needed to connect their two minds absolutely, so that their combined strength would be enough to direct the energies of the Tesseract. And so they would both need to understand each other, know each other inside and out. As he had once told her, the door went both ways. And that frightened Loki. Because there were things inside of him that were troubling. And he didn't want her to feel like she'd made a mistake, now that they'd already gone too far.

* * *

Darcy unhappily left the throne room, reminding herself with each step that she was simply practicing a kind of magic, that she didn't need to be so upset about what had just happened. But really, it was more than that. She was literally traipsing through the subconscious of a god, a god that she happened to...have incredibly powerful feelings for. And it had stung to be so abruptly rejected by a part of him. But hey, what had she really expected? Darcy supposed it would be a little presumptuous and narcissistic of her to believe that each and every aspect of Loki would have the same attraction to her.

Sighing, she turned a corner and found herself in an old library. Everything was violently quiet, even for a library, and at first Darcy thought she was alone until a light rusting sound disturbed the silence and she saw, out of the corner of her eye, the outline of a person. She crept closer, and the figure moved again, stepping into her view. Of course, it was another version of Loki's unconscious. This one wore a rather nervous expression and radiated shyness. Like the other she had encountered, the outward physical appearance was virtually unchanged: the same pale skin and sharp cheekbones, but the eyes varied both in color and feeling. And he wasn't dressed in any sort of Asgardian attire, rather he wore a pair of grey trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a vest. It was a different aspect, all right, and Darcy wondered how well she'd get along with this one. He regarded her curiously.

''Hello,'' she ventured.

He cocked his head to a side and studied her for a long, ponderous moment before admitting, ''I've never had a visitor before.'' Then he said nothing and silence crept in and washed over everything and held it until he spoke again. ''I feel like I know you.''

''You do know me,'' she attempted to explain to him. He cocked his head to the side, watched her with an intensity that made Darcy's skin flush for a moment. ''I mean...the real you, the main you, does.''

Looking even more confused, if that was possible, he asked, ''What does that mean?''

''You're a part of someone's subconscious. An aspect of his personality.'' If Library Loki understood, he didn't give any real indication, he just blinked at her. Darcy quickly decided that this particular subject was slightly too existential to discuss with him in depth. Besides, she needed to explore. Taking another quick look around, she asked ''Is this where you always are?''

He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Darcy found him outrageously endearing.

''What are all these books? Do you read them? What's in them?''

''All kinds of things,'' he said proudly, though he didn't seem quite able to elaborate further. Darcy wasn't even positive that Library Loki knew which question he was answering. ''It's an extensive collection. I've been looking after it for as long as I can remember. I've never had a visitor before,'' he repeated, moving just a step closer to her. His eyes were now kind and warm and lonely. He was looking at her like she was the most fascinating thing he had ever encountered, like he was afraid that she would disappear at any moment. It made her heart twist inside of her chest, just a bit.

Then there came a feeling like a sudden gust of cold wind rushing through the library, though nothing moved or shifted at first. It was followed by a loud creaking sound, like metal buckling and straining under heavy weight. And then there was the scream. It started out low, barely little more than a whistling sound, then it amplified and grew until it was all around them, until it was intolerable. For a brief second Darcy was afraid that her head might actually explode.

''What _is_ that?'' she cried, bringing up her hands to shield her ears against the horrid noise, but it barely did any good. The sound had somehow crept inside of her skull, into her bones, sucking at the marrow. It was the worst thing she had ever felt. ''Ugggghhh, what _is_ it?''

''It's the Void,'' he responded in a hushed voice, putting his hands almost protectively on her shoulders, pulling her ever so gently closer to him. His touch felt a little like _her _Loki's, but not quite. There was something missing, something in the way. ''Don't worry, it'll be over soon.''

''What?'' she asked, removing her hands from her ears. They were so close now, she could feel his cool breath on her skin. ''The Void,'' he repeated, ''the space between the worlds.''

''That's the sound it makes?'' Darcy demanded, shaken.

''When it's quiet,'' he replied honestly.

''Do you hear it all the time?'' she asked incredulously. Her voice sounded small.

''It comes and goes,'' he admitted, an apprehension clouding over his face. ''The walls of this place are getting weaker, and so it's grown louder. I think that it's trying to find a way in. But don't worry, you're safe here for now.'' He put his hands around her waist, awkwardly, then seemed to think better of it and pulled away.

''Look, I can't stay for very long'' Darcy said, moving back, gathering her wits. Her mind fluttered, whirred like a blender. ''And to be perfectly honest, I'm not even sure that I know how to find my way back. He didn't say much about that.''

''Who didn't?''

She sighed, then gently attempted at an explanation once again. ''You—er-the person who's unconscious we're apparently inside of right now. Our minds are connected, mine and his, and we were trying to make that connection stronger. I guess it worked.'' She laughed nervously, then gave a light, weary shrug.

Library Loki just nodded again, clearly at a loss. It was sweetly sad. Darcy suddenly wanted to hug him for a long time. Instead, she said,

''Hey...why don't you give me a tour? Show me around your library, this extensive collection that you've been guarding.''

His face instantly brightened. ''Certainly. But I must warn you, the books move around quite a bit. They can never seem to stay where I put them, and sometimes they just vanish. And then sometimes a new one arrives and I haven't any idea where it came from.'' He chuckled, ran a hand through his hair and then impulsively reached out and took Darcy by the arm. She was oddly comforted by the contact as he led her through the library. At first the stacks seemed very neat and orderly, but as they continued to walk further toward the back, they grew older, messier and more disorganized, covered in cobwebs and dust. Library Loki sighed heavily. ''And this is where I start to lose track of everything, It's a bloody nuisance!'' He gestured to the shelves with scorn. ''They all have a mind of their own.''

_Entropy_, thought Darcy. _Chaos._ She almost smiled. Then she found herself drawn to the farthest corner of the room, where something unusual caught her eye. Every other book that she had seen so far looked to be quite old, with leather binding and dusty pages, but not this one. It was a fresh volume, wildly out of place, especially amid that dark, cluttered corner. She let go of Library Loki's arm and wandered over. Picking up the book, she smirked. _Pride and Prejudice. _Darcy. It was meant for her, obviously. It was a new edition, and the only book she had yet seen there with a title in English, not those infuriating runes. It was also surprisingly light.

Darcy opened it and almost laughed: it was hollowed out, a makeshift book-safe. Inside, there lay a piece of paper. _Good job_, it said. _Now close your eyes and come back to me._ She smiled, then let her eyelids fall closed as she began to breathe evenly and count backwards until she could feel that familiar tugging sensation, then the odd pangs of de-materialization. Once it had stopped, she timidly moved her limbs and realized that she was once again sitting, the way she had been in Loki's room, before she left. Darcy cracked an eye open and sighed with great relief to find that she had returned safely. He was sitting in front of her, still holding her hands.

''Good grief, you have a lot of selves!'' was the first thing she exclaimed, once she could feel her mouth again. Loki gave her a lopsided look. ''You only met two of them. And they're not _selves_, they're just aspects of my...multifaceted personality. Just pockets of feeling and thought that take on form and shape.''

''Multifaceted is right,'' Darcy snorted. ''One was an arrogant prick, the other was a confused librarian.'' She pondered thoughtfully, before adding, ''I kinda liked him, though.''

Loki rolled his eyes. ''It's not a _him_. It's _me_, just me. So whatever qualities you found...likeable, well, they came from me to begin with. I already have them.''

''And then some.''

''You have no idea.'' There was a slight, uncomfortable flicker of something like sorrow in Loki's voice. He let go of Darcy's hands. Then the flicker died away and he brightened crisply, like new paper, and asked, ''How did you know to look inside that particular book?''

''It looked different than the others,'' she explained. ''Like it didn't really belong there.''

He nodded. ''I don't want you to think that I was _testing_ you or anything, but when you're journeying , no matter where to, you need to keep your eyes open and look for specific clues. Sort of like a breadcrumb trail, or a reminder. So, how did it feel?''

''It felt...well, real. I mean, I was in a real place, but...'' Darcy trailed off before admitting, ''I don't really know how to describe it.''

''Well, you were just getting a feel for what it's like. You'll get better at it the next go.''

She screwed up her face. ''We're gonna do that again?''

''Yes,'' he told her patiently, ''and fairly soon. We don't have that much time left, and this is a crucial aspect of our plan.''

Time. Oh yeah, there was _that_. Darcy panicked; cold, clammy sweat erupted on her skin. ''How long was I gone?'' she gasped. It felt like hours, but it could have been longer for all she knew.

Loki laughed, trying to ease her worry. ''It's alright, Darcy, it's only been five minutes.''

''Five minutes?'' Her voice was caked with heavy disbelief.

''Relativity,'' he told her, as if this explained absolutely everything.

Darcy couldn't help it, she laughed. It was that sort of laughter that inexplicably strikes when you're sleep deprived, an exhausted giddiness.

But now Loki seemed struck, his expression full of a kind of wonder. He moved closer to her, looking at her with a sudden great intensity. ''She never laughed,'' he said, seeming to be remembering something. ''I never saw her face and she never laughed, she only cried. A sound...a lonely sound. The sound of wind crying between stones by the sea. That's how I heard it.''

A frantic bell went off inside of her head with the words.''What did you just say?'' Darcy whispered. A recent memory tugged at her like a nervous, demanding child yanking at its mother's arm. Then she answered her own question, ''_the sound of wind crying between stones by the sea_. When I was in the dream-state, right before I entered your subconscious, Skuld showed up to spout more _drivel_ about how doomed I am, and she used that _exact_ phrase. That can't be a coincidence, can it?''

''I should think not,'' Loki said slowly after a moment. Then he climbed off of the bed and swiftly got to his feet in a rush of violent, excited understanding.

''I know it, I know...it was an illusion! The entire time. A rabbit being pulled out of a hat.'' He began his familiar tradition of pacing the floor as he explained. ''Many years ago, when I had those dreams and drew those pictures that you found in my room...I never saw the woman's face. She never said anything. Back then, I was hopping back and forth to Midgard quite often, as I said, and like I told you, I've met many interesting people over the course of these many visits, through the course of your history. Around the time that I began having those dreams I had recently gotten back from a visit to the Eastern United States, to the city of Baltimore. I'd made an acquaintance in a tavern one night—a very eccentric—well, _mad_ really—gentleman who was something of a poet. And oh my, was he a drinker!''

Loki coughed out a laugh at the memory, Darcy listened attentively, though she wondered what the hell this had to do with anything. ''He put your friend Tony Stark to shame, this fellow did. He had a very dark, restless soul. Many demons. But that wasn't any of my business, I was merely there to observe, not to tangle with any ghosts one way or another. He wrote this eerie poem about a man who was in love with a dead woman, and she lived by the sea. Every word had this terrible ominousness to it, it was all so heavy...and I suppose that for whatever reason I couldn't get those lines and the image that they painted out of my head. I could hear that woman's ghost just crying...crying by the sea. And there were jagged rocks all around, dark waves breaking on them.''

Darcy managed a nod, she was numbed by the look in his eyes, his recollection. ''You met Edgar Allen Poe,'' she said, stumbling a little on the words. ''That's one of his most famous poems, ''Annabelle Lee.'' ''

''I never knew his name,'' Loki said after a long, quiet moment. Then he blinked and snapped out of his temporary reverie. ''My point is—remember how I told you that the Norns manipulate dreams?''

She nodded vigorously. ''Yeah, they Incept you.''

''Darling, shut up about that film or I'll drop you out of a window,'' he threatened cheerily as he continued to pace. ''What is the general scientific theory on Midgard as to why humans dream?''

''We-ell...'' Darcy tiredly racked her brains for scraps of information from the few psychology courses that she'd taken in college. ''I guess one of the most widely accepted ideas is that our dreams are filled with residual bits of what we've done all day, or what we need to do. Or...like a worry that we have, or something we try to hide or ignore. It's all still there, floating around in our subconscious and dreams are our way of processing everything.''

''Yes. Alright.'' Loki nodded, accepting this theory, then adding, ''And now can you tell me a non-scientific explanation for dreams?''

She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by non-scientific, but Darcy assumed that he probably meant otherworldly. ''Uh...I don't really...I guess that some people think that your dreams can tell the future. That they're somehow gateways that extra-sensory information can pass through. That they're something really mysterious and sacred.'' She snapped her fingers as she remembered something. ''I took this one anthropology course pass-fail and I actually skipped it most of the time but this one lecture was really interesting. The professor was talking about ancient Egypt-''

''What Dynasty?'' interrupted Loki, a wry smile on his face.

''Don't even. I have no idea. The one with the pyramids,'' Darcy said wearily, rolling her eyes. ''_Smartass_. Anyhow, they were big on dreams, thought that you could get answers from the gods if you dreamed in the temple, or something like that.''

''What if it's a little bit of both?'' Loki asked rhetorically. ''And what if, perhaps, you happened to be dreaming, not necessarily in some temple, but suppose that you needed an answer, and suppose that something _was_ prepared to give you one, but it told you only exactly what it wanted you to know.''

It was actually a very terrifying concept. It chilled her for a moment, pins and needles raking up and down her arms like fingernails. They screeched. It hurt. ''Well...then...you could control everything,'' Darcy whispered.

''Since the beginning of the universe. Dreaming is our oldest function,'' Loki said with a gentle nod, sensing her tension, saddened by it. He stopped pacing, rejoined her on the bed.

''What's the second oldest?'' she asked breathlessly. In her mind, she'd just run for miles. Her body was catching up.

''Singing,'' he replied with a light shrug, as if the answer should be obvious. ''Dreams are a _place_, Darcy, they're like a...a port. The beginning of the journey. And journeys always contain some sort of peril, however mundane. The problem with Midgard is that you all always find yourselves having to divide everything into neat little compartments because you're all anal retentive and have serious control issues. You think that if you can put something in its proper box and context then you have nothing to fear anymore. There are no monsters in the closet—you're merely tying into some sort of collective-unconscious-genetic memory—repressed childhood nonsense and it's all like a brief, hallucinogenic ride without any sort of consequences the next day. _Bollocks_.''

He took Darcy's hands in his once again and continued.''The minute you dream, you put your foot halfway through the door. And whatever may be listening on the other side can get a little tiny peek inside of your soul, inside of your fears and desires and hopes and terrors and perversions. And sometimes, the thing that's listening is loving and benevolent and wants to play muse and dole out characters and plots and songs. And sometimes it's post-modern and indifferent, boomeranging your own subconscious back at you with bizarre symbolism that leaves you pondering for days. Sometimes, like me, once upon a time, it is simply bored and wants a playmate.'' Loki paused, smiled impishly. His eyes seemed to grow greener. ''As I told you, I've been inside a lot of dreams. How do you think _''_The Cat In The Hat'' got written?''

He burst into laughter like an electric sunbeam, ignoring the disbelieving look on Darcy's face as he continued. ''And, my darling, beautiful Miss Lewis, even gods dream. Gods dream, elves dream, dwarves and vampires and witches and every last creature in any world...dreams. Except for three lonely women, older than time, trapped in three eternally suspended quantum states.''

He thought, deeply and with sincere hatred, about them, searched for the right words to describe the havoc that followed their footsteps. ''Urd watches the past and her heart is screaming with bitterness, with age. Her heart is like an arthritic joint, swollen and miserably creaking on. Little Verdandi, a million years young, lives always in the present, never knowing more than the moment that she govens, that she will govern forever. And our dear friend Skuld, our ''Must Be,'' a lofty statement if there ever was one. Unmoving as stone and entirely mad, she has a memory that stretches nearly to the first being that ever dreamed. It's the dreams that make the Wyrd, that feed it. Without dreams, there are no threads.''

A sudden thought pounded into her mind like a hammer. ''Wait—wait, threads...I'm remembering something,'' Darcy exclaimed, trying to gather the fleeting details of the memory as it sped along her spine, an obscure footnote in her history, long-forgotten but suddenly useful.

''During freshman year my roommate was this girl, Prudence, and she was really into like...candles and crystals and auras...the whole floor always reeked of incense, but anyhow, she did this thing called ''astral projection''. Darcy relived it briefly, plain and bright as day. Patchouli, all the time. Those crystals glaring up at her from Prudence's makeshift altar, reflecting the light but still always seeming able to glow from the inside out. ''She said that when you sleep, your soul leaves your body and goes out to do whatever, but there's a kind of rope that holds your spirit to your body, so you can always find your way back.'' She paused a moment, then blinked. ''But your mom told me that sometimes people get lost...and they can't find their way back. So...which is true?''

Loki smiled gently. ''There is a cord, or a thread, but it's not holding anything on a safe tether. It's simply transmitting information to whomever may be on the receiving end. And then the threads are finally grabbed by the ones who never sleep.''

''The Norns.'' Darcy almost spat the word, as if it were something stale.

''Of course they control everything,'' continued Loki. ''We all have the one vulnerability that they don't. When I got back from Midgard, after talking to that man, his poem was still in my head for days. And while I slept, the Norns crept in. I may have been extra tired, less guarded, more susceptible to their trickery. And they wove images of a beautiful, faceless woman woman who only cried and never smiled, a sense of longing and loneliness, and a poem about a man in love with a ghost in a kingdom by the sea and lo and behold, you have there the perfect recipe for mysterious dreams and eerie sketches.'' He smiled almost manically, his eyes alight with realization. Loki now looked younger and stronger than ever.

''Even then, they were laying down the tracks, up until the moment that I looked out of the window and saw you standing there. The ancient scribes and poets, the ones who brought our myths to your world, they dreamed. Oh, they certainly dreamed. And everything they wrote was exactly what they were supposed to write. And then the Norns waited. They were patient. Do you think it was merely by chance that after Thor was banished he happened to arrive in New Mexico right at the precise moment that your strange...caravan happened to come crashing by? Oh, Darcy, I hate to tell you this, but at the risk of sounding melodramatic—you and I were meant to be.''


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi everyone! Thank you for all the reviews, I'm so glad that you are all enjoying this story so much! This chapter was a beast to write, and I promise it will _all_ make sense eventually, even if it doesn't seem to right now. We're still in the middle of the story. Enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

* * *

_Something there is that doesn't love a wall,_

_That wants it down_

-**Robert Frost**

* * *

''_You and I were meant to be._''

Darcy swallowed hard at the words, a lump lodged in her throat like a stone. Unsure what to do with any of this information, she stared down at his hands holding hers.

''The Norns want it to be tragic, as I told you before,'' he added. ''They wanted their own personal soap opera, and if they could tie up a nice little hole in the universe while doing it, then all the better. After all, the show must go on. Save the world, damn a few—it makes for great myth—and great theatre.'' He said the last bit sarcastically, almost as if he wanted her to laugh, but Darcy couldn't. Not now.

''But then is any of this _real_?'' she asked in a wavering voice. Her heart stuttered. ''If it was meant to be then maybe I don't...actually care about you the way I think I do, maybe that's all...made up, too? Maybe it's just great _theatre_, like you said.'' Darcy was starting to cry now, and she was going to say something that was really going to hurt and she didn't want to but the words tumbled from her lips all the same. ''What if they made me love you because then it would be even more tragic?'' She pulled away from him and covered her face with her hands.

Loki was absolutely silent for a moment. Then with a slow and painstaking gentleness, he reached up and peeled Darcy's fingers away from her face, so that she couldn't hide from him anymore.

''It's not a tragedy unless we allow it to be. And we won't. We _won't,_'' he reiterated firmly, staring right into her eyes with an intensity that stung. ''We aren't here for anyone's amusement. We don't have to be anyone's myth except our own.'' Loki paused. ''And for the record, you can't _make_ people fall in love. You can set it up and hope for the best, but love is one thing that the Norns don't control. They don't understand it. They can't feel it.''

''They're horrible. They're like...like _Daleks_!'' Darcy spat the worst insult that came to her mind.

''Yes, they are.'' The god nodded sympathetically while masking a smile, humouring her.

She sighed and sniffled, calming a bit. ''You really met Edgar Allan Poe, huh?'' Darcy let out a shaky laugh around the tears that were just now stopping. ''Any other names you care to drop?'' she asked jokingly.

Loki thought back for a moment. Then a weird light lit in his eyes. ''Well...since you ask,'' he answered with a devilish smirk. ''I was once in a threesome with Anais Nin.''

This statement, whether true or not, had the desired effect. Darcy's jaw hit the floor. She quickly regained her composure, demanding, ''Who was the third person? Was it Henry Miller? _Please_ tell me it was Henry Miller!''

''Certainly _not_,'' he scoffed, then added, ''I was also the third person.''

Darcy let out a breath, pondering _that_. ''Come again?''

''And again and again and again,'' said Loki, and before Darcy could blink she suddenly felt a pair of hands on the back of her neck. He laughed as she shrieked and whirled around and there he was _again_, impossibly, smiling and looking far too pleased with himself.

''What's-what?!'' she yelped, her eyes darting to the god in front of her and then back to the identical copy that had suddenly materialized out of thin air. ''That's a neat trick,'' Darcy admitted. She felt herself relaxing as the duplicate of Loki sitting behind her began to smooth his hands gently over her shoulders and then down her torso, resting on her waist and holding her just the way she liked. A scalding rush of excitement flooded her veins and Darcy's skin tingled. He leaned forward and flicked his tongue against her earlobe. She squirmed a little, wriggled against him, tried to stifle a moan. Still sitting in front of her, Loki watched with an intensity that left her trembling. She kept her eyes locked with his as the other swept her long hair to the side and pressed his lips against her neck. Languid warmth spread all through her, along with that familiar lightning bolt of desire striking to her center. The idea of what could happen here was enough to burn her up from the inside out, all the possibilities for sensation with more than one set of those hands, that mouth, simultaneously exploring her body...yet somehow it wasn't exactly what she wanted, or needed, and Darcy actually wanted to kick herself for what she was about to say.

''...Just you..'' she whispered. The duplicate's lips stilled against her skin like a snowflake, then in an instant he was gone. With a sigh, she moved closer to Loki. ''Everything that you already are is more than enough on its own.''

''You know that? You're certain?'' he asked in a thick voice, both doubtful and hopeful at the same time.

''I know _you_,'' she said, smiling, but also filled with an inexplicable desire to cry. She touched her hand to the side of his face and he closed his eyes for a moment, just resting there under her fingertips. Then his eyelids fluttered open and he reached out for her, but with a soft tentativeness. He looked like he needed to be reassured. Or perhaps just...held.

Darcy put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down onto the bed, climbing over and straddling his body with her legs. Loki didn't say anything, just kept watching her. Even his eyes were quiet. A deeper green, softer.

She kissed his forehead first, pressing her lips there and letting them linger on cool skin. Then she trailed down over his nose, his chin, before moving lower and dipping her tongue into the hollow of his throat. The god drew in a breath, his heart beat faster. Darcy paused and rested her head against his chest for a moment, listening and breathing in the scent of him. He smelled like moonlight on snow amid an endless dark landscape. She released him only long enough to free herself from her clothes, and then her body found his again. Her fingers dragged over Loki and worked until he was undressed, until there was nothing separating them. If possible, everything hushed itself further as Darcy slid onto him, drawing him deep inside of her. They faded into each other like cool shadows blending, until all that remained was exquisite, soundless peace.

* * *

After she reluctantly separated them, Loki was startled to realize that the fear had left, just for a moment. All of the garish, scraping turmoil that had been a constant presence along the inside of his skull for years, it stopped as quickly as a skipped heartbeat, and that second was enough to be decades. He felt...calm. Or rather, _complete_. It was her, she quieted him, finished him. Darcy was the missing piece in the story, no matter how it ended. That part was true. And then of course, the fear returned as he knew it would, but it had stopped. Relativity. An eternal moment. Their entire future hinged on that one idea. He stared at the ceiling, running his fingertips gently along her back, tracing spells into her skin as she rested in his arms.

''You said something before,'' he whispered. Darcy knew immediately what he meant, felt his muscles tense and his skin grow even colder at the memory. When she had admitted that she loved him. _Sentiment._ Loki was frightened by the idea that he was loved, yet he craved, needed it like air. And Darcy didn't think that she could breathe anymore without him. It was one of those terrifying pangs. When it feels like you're being drowned while wearing an oxygen mask.

''I did. And I do. Somehow, I think I always have.'' She sighed. ''Because when we're...together I...I feel like I make sense.'' The words were so true that they felt like a scar.

''I have to warn you about something, Darcy,'' he said, gently stroking her arm, forcing his way past the weight of everything that had just been said, refusing to mention it aloud but still holding her every word inside his heart. Desperately so. ''Very soon, we're going to have to use the Tesseract. You've never encountered it before, but you must understand that this energy is very...aware of its surroundings, and it responds accordingly to its environment. It's not unlike a virus. It infects. It adapts and learns. The thing that got its hands on me before, the one that pulled me out of the void...it's...it's the end. The ultimate terror and emptiness. The Tesseract learned to imitate that, and so fear became its great art. Once it gets inside of you, it knows your mind. And it has been inside of me and gotten to know my nightmares very well. And so, my love,'' he said with a great pause, a blue-green flash of worry crashing through his eyes, a worry that Darcy thankfully didn't see, ''you must know my shadows. And I must know yours. It's the only way we can protect ourselves. This time, we're going farther and hopefully when we're done the connection will be entirely solidified. I will be visiting your subconscious, and you are going back into mine. We're each going to learn something about each other, something secret and something hidden.''

A chill swept through Darcy at the words. Unfortunate slivers of memory made burning papercuts across her mind. But she pushed it aside, knowing that what they were preparing for was more important than the ghosts of the past. ''Ok,'' she said in a thin voice, then added, ''But I don't want to start just yet. I want to stay like this for a little while longer.''

Running her fingers along his shoulder, she softly began to confess something. ''When we're lying here together, I sometimes pretend that we're different people. Like, I'll close my eyes and imagine that when I open them we'll be lying on a bed in a hotel somewhere in Europe. And there's a balcony outside the window with a beautiful view, and I can hear birds and just...smell a different part of the world. And we don't remember anything about Asgard, or Tesseracts or Norns. We don't even remember our own names but we know each other's faces, and know that we belong together.''

''I see,'' he said, trying to smile even though her words made him ache. Because it sounded wonderful. ''And what do we do then?''

''Anything,'' she replied. ''Everything.'' She pressed her lips against his chest, repeating, ''Everything.''

* * *

After connecting his mind with Darcy's that first time back on Midgard, Loki had never overstepped any boundaries. He had watched and guarded her dream-states, listened to scraps of thought near to the surface, but he had never deliberately traveled any farther into her consciousness than that. Now, though, it was a necessity. The god was deeply concerned for her safety, worried about the effects that the Tesseract might have—on both of them, but especially Darcy. He was putting her at serious risk, exposing her mind to an energy of that magnitude. He needed to make sure that she was made as safe and strong as possible. If there were any lingering ghosts or fears, things sublimated and hidden, he was going to have to find them before anything else could. They needed a clear, open channel for the Tesseract to pass through, and that meant no surprises.

Still Loki was hesitant at the border of her mind, afraid as ever that he might somehow taint her with his presence. But Darcy seemed to want him there; she allowed him to slip inside easily as with each deep breath she vanished further and further into his mind. This time, he wouldn't be able to observe her as she meandered through, he would be on a journey of his own.

Darcy's consciousness seemed a bright and vivid place, at first. Loki's found himself wandering through swirls and blotches of colour; they moved restlessly, not exactly taking shape. Then the fluid landscape settled itself, steadied into coherency. It formed a long, expansive marble hallway in front of him. Along the white walls hung empty picture frames of various shapes and sizes. Daylight poured in, flooded the windowless room from an unseen source. The god's footsteps made no sound as he walked down the corridor. There was something at the end, a blur of form and colour. It stood, watched him. Or rather,_ she_ did.

She looked so beautiful, Loki felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach at the sight. This aspect of Darcy wasn't wearing glasses; her eyes seemed even larger and bluer, her skin nearly glowed. Long waves of soft dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders. She wore a pale blue silk gown that was really more like a long strip of fabric wrapped toga-style around the curves of her body, baring heavenly expanses of skin. She watched him approach, a corner of her mouth lifted into an smile, seemingly of recognition.

''I've been waiting for you,'' she said, then added in the same breath, ''I'm always waiting for you.''

''Do you know who I am?'' he asked. She nodded.

''This place looks new. And so do you, actually.'' Loki's eyes roved over Darcy In Blue. ''And if you know me, then you must have arrived more recently.''

Again, she gave a nod, eyes alight. ''The first thing that I remember is you. Actually, the only thing that I remember is you.''

That statement made him a little uncomfortable. As he considered her words, Loki's gaze was drawn to an area in the far corner of the room, where the brightness of their surroundings had begun to wear away. ''There's something beyond that wall, isn't there?'' he asked her. He could see it, creeping near the ceiling. Ugly little dark patches of mold, cracks in the foundation. The space looked septic, deeply infected. All signs of trouble.

''Yes, there is. We don't want you to see,'' she told him matter of factly.

''See what?'' Loki pressed. He needed to find out what was there.

''How vulnerable this place is. It's decaying. The weight of the past, bad memories, crushing. They feel like stones piling up. So we built a wall. To keep me beautiful for you.''

''Darcy has _always_ been beautiful,'' snapped Loki, ''She didn't just suddenly become that way because of me. I can't make anything better. I _destroy, _it's what I'm good at_._''

''We didn't know you then,'' the aspect in blue softly explained. ''That Loki is already a myth to her. She's heard the stories, but that's all she knows them as—stories. I was created by her time with you. And it has been the most wonderful time.''

Loki snorted, his voice took on a very brittle edge. ''I highly doubt that. Interrogations, apocalypse, madness, magic...hardly a wonderful time.''

''We don't see it like that. She feels safe with you, you protect her.'' Darcy In Blue paused a moment. ''There are other memories here, many others. Some are so painful that they've simply imploded upon themselves like dying stars, others are fragments, like the one on the other side of the wall, where the fear lives. People have not always been the...kindest to her. You must understand—you are the best man she's ever known. You wouldn't hurt us.''

''Of course I wouldn't! What are you saying?'' Loki suddenly had a very bad feeling. It left a chilly, metallic taste in his mouth, like blood or batteries. He glanced back up at the decaying wall.

''You wouldn't hurt us, no. But others have. And that's why she can never see you as the villain you so desperately want to be seen as. Because she has known real villainy. But from you, we have only known love. And that's why I'm here, and that's why this place is so bright and lovely.'' Darcy In Blue drew herself up taller; she was indeed bright and lovely, she practically glistened. Somehow, it all felt unfair.

He swallowed, tried not to look her right in the eyes. ''I need to get to the other side of that wall. I have to keep her—and you-safe, and the only way I can do that is if I see what's there. Because if I don't, then someone else will find it, and they will torment her with all of those terrible memories. And even this space will be compromised. And it will go dark.''

The aspect breathed quietly for a moment, considered this, nodded and moved aside. ''Knock three times. That's how she knows it's safe.''

''Thank you,'' he told her, and approached the wall.

''Loki?'' Darcy In Blue called after a moment. He turned at the sound of his name. ''We're glad that you're here.''

Not knowing what to say, he simply nodded and turned back away from her to focus on the task ahead of him. This was turning out to be a very surprising journey already. He knocked on the grimy plaster with his fist. One, two, then three times.

''Who's there?'' called a small, childlike voice.

''A friend,'' he replied, uncertain how else to identify himself.

There was nothing for a moment. Then the vague outline of a door slowly cut itself into the wall. It creaked open to reveal a narrow passageway. Inside, there stood a little girl with big blue eyes and long, dark hair who was instantly familiar. She looked almost too thin for her age, and very, very tired. Her entire arm, he noticed, was in a cast.

''Hello there,'' he said, kneeling down so that they were eye level. He smiled at her. The child aspect of Darcy smiled back but then turned away, seeming shy.

''It's alright. I won't stay long,'' the god told her gently. ''I just need to look around and make sure that you're safe here.''

She turned back to him hesitantly.

''This is such a dark place,'' he continued, taking in their grim surroundings with disdain. ''Why are you here all by yourself?''

''I think I...I ran away a long time ago. And then I couldn't get back to where I was before because it was just gone and so...so I'm here.'' She became agitated, twitchy. It was like a knife twisting in Loki's side.

''How did you hurt your arm?'' he asked her. Child Darcy's eyes widened and she grew even more restless. Her delicate features were overtaken by a terrible, panicked expression that nauseated him. Her eyes reminded him of a horse trapped in a fire. Raising a hand to her mouth, she bit down hard on her knuckles. ''I don't remember!'' she cried in a muffled voice, then in the same breath added, ''I'm not supposed to talk about it. It's gone!'' She didn't seem entirely sure what to say, but that awful look on her face told Loki everything that he needed to know.

''Yes, yes, darling, it's gone. And you're safe now. Guess what?'' he asked, smiling.

''What?'' she wondered, blinking around a shiny film of tears.

''You don't need to wear this cast anymore. Your arm is all better.''

''It is not!'' she said stubbornly, holding out her bandaged limb for Loki to inspect. ''Look. I'm still all broke.''

He carefully took hold of her small, broken arm. Child Darcy watched in utter amazement as the cast disintegrated under his fingertips and fell away like dust.

''See?'' he said, grinning at her. ''All better now! Try and move your arm, love.''

Slowly, she did so, a bright, toothy smile spreading across her little face as she wiggled her fingers and bent her arm back and forth. ''It _is_ all better! How did you do that?''

''It's magic,'' he told her. ''Just like..this!'' He materialized a small flower out of the air and handed it to her. She squealed delightedly as she accepted it. ''Now that you're all better, why don't you go play?'' Loki pointed to the doorway that had opened behind him, the way he had entered. ''See how bright it is out there? It's so much nicer. You don't have to stay here anymore. There's a lady on the other side of that door. She's wearing a blue dress. Go and find her, she's waiting to build you a nice room of your very own.'' The aspect blinked, still clutching the flower. She peered out the door, looking intrigued. ''Really?'' she asked.

''Really and truly,'' Loki said, getting to his feet. ''Now off you go. I have work to do.''

She hesitated for half a moment, looked back at him, smiled, then vanished into the light.

Loki ventured on through the dark passageway, knowing with a grim certainty that whatever the child aspect had been so frightened of couldn't be far behind. And he was correct. A hulking, shadowy outline of a man came lumbering along and into view. ''Darcy!'' the man yelled, stumbling closer. His face was scarlet with rage, a bottle of Jack Daniels fisted in his hand. ''Darcy, you little brat don't you _dare run away from me_-'' the figment stopped when he saw Loki standing in front of him, had the good sense to look a little nervous.

''What do you want with Darcy?'' Loki asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

''She's my goddamn kid, and it's none of your fucking business. Just who the hell are you, anyway?''

In less than a second, Loki's hand was around the shadow's throat. ''I'm your son-in-law,'' the god said, shoving him against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster. ''Darcy grew up to be absolutely wonderful, no thanks to you. And now I think it's time for you to go. She doesn't need any more monsters.'' Loki leaned in closer, catastrophic rage simmering in his blood. ''And judging by the fear in that little girl's eyes, I'd say that you were quite the monster, am I right?''

The shadow of Darcy's father looked terrified, tried to stammer something but couldn't.

''_Answer me!_'' Loki roared, slamming his head into the wall again.

''Yes! Alright, yes! I'm a monster! Please stop!''

_''Please stop_,'' Loki mimicked nastily. ''No, I'm afraid we're just getting started.'' He gripped the man's arm. ''I wonder if you can feel pain, being a figment of memory and all. I do believe it's worth a test.'' He twisted until he heard bones crack and splinter, until the shadow shrieked in agony.

''Well, that's an affirmative!'' Loki laughed. ''Isn't the mind a marvelous thing! Oh, I'd love to stretch this out for _hours_. Nothing would give me more joy than to hear every bone in your body breaking...it would be like a symphony to me. But unfortunately, I have work to do. And part of that work is making sure that there's no trace of you left here to give her nightmares.'' His hand released the figment's arm and then wrapped around his neck once again. ''I've killed actual living, breathing people and so I certainly have no qualms about this. You're a shadow, a parasite, feeding on her memories and fear, creeping around in the darkness.'' He tightened his grip, slowly squeezing harder and harder. ''And eventually, when the light changes, all shadows die.''

* * *

Darcy was already becoming familiar with the terrain of Loki's mind, and with the odd sensations involved in this journeying. This time when she arrived, she felt very cold. Tentatively, her eyelids cracked open and Darcy allowed her eyes to adjust and water slightly. She found herself standing on the rainbow bridge. It glittered beneath her feet, impossibly solid and shimmering. The universe moved in its own slow, indifferent dance around her. Stars, so very many stars. It made her happy to see them again, even if it wasn't real.

She paused and took a moment to look around at the foreign constellations. As Darcy scanned her surroundings, her eyes came to rest upon yet another aspect of Loki, sitting quietly on the very edge of the bridge, his legs dangling down. Of all the versions that she had stumbled across thus far, this one reminded her most of the god that she had grown to love, except that his hair was longer and surprisingly wavy. His head was bowed and he hummed to himself as he stared into the vast miles of nothingness below.

''I don't think it would hurt very much,'' he said, and she was momentarily startled, unsure if he was talking to her or not. She hadn't thought he even knew that she was standing there yet. Something about his words saddened her, they were spoken so very softly, almost a whisper.

''What wouldn't?'' Darcy asked. The aspect didn't move, didn't shift or incline his head at all. Maybe he couldn't hear her, she thought. Maybe he was just talking to himself. But no.

''Falling. There isn't any end, as far as I can tell. It can't hurt terribly much to just...keep falling.''

He shifted, leaned forward precariously. Her heart lurched like a sprinter in slow motion.

''I come out here to think. Thinking is always best done on the edge of something.'' He finally turned to face her. His lips shifted upward in an uneasy attempt at a smile that faded quickly away.

''I've been waiting for you for a very long time,'' he continued sincerely. ''In every dark and lonely corner, you come walking. I can hear your heart beating. It sounds like rain. I'm sorry that you've come all this way just to find me. I suppose that you expected something grander at the edge. I must be such a disappointment to you.'' He looked out at the stars.

''You're not a disappointment,'' Darcy shook her head with violent forcefulness. ''Never once, not to me.''

As he turned to meet her eyes again, a weird iridescent shimmer crawled over his form, and for half of a second he was gone. Then she blinked and he was standing in front of her, still he was uncomfortably close to the edge of the shining bridge. An echo swam up out of the darkness beneath them, that unmistakeable pained shriek of the Void. Mercifully, it dulled away and Darcy breathed a small sigh of relief.

The aspect reached out to stroke a finger along her cheek. ''It was so cold here, until you came. I've grown tired of the cold, of the ice.'' He looked around again at the endless, uncaring universe, then back to her. ''I have something to give you,'' he said, and before Darcy could ask what it was he leaned down to press his lips against hers, threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her close against him. She returned the kiss without even really thinking about it, automatically allowing her body to respond to his touch. With the feel of his mouth and hands on her there came the odd sensation that she was absorbing some kind of intelligence. It flowed from him to her and then stayed within Darcy, though she didn't really know what it was. But she felt like she knew something now that she hadn't before, as if data were uploaded directly into her being. He reluctantly ended their kiss and pulled gently away from her.

''What—'' she started, but then the words died on her lips as she watched him take a few steps backwards, until he was literally only a breath away from tumbling backwards off of the bridge. Though he didn't seem to mind, now he was looking at her with a soft, faraway, almost...happy expression.

''Come back here.'' Panic, raw and absolute, screamed through her senses, searing every nerve ending in her body. Darcy reached out a hand to him. ''Please, please...just...come back over here to me. Move away from the edge—I'm begging you! You're going to fall!''

Again, only that gaze, gentle and maddening. For just a moment, he looked _warm_. And then he let himself fall backwards, dropping off of the bridge and out of her vision.

An awful scream tore from Darcy's throat, a reverberating wail that was collected up by the dark matter all around her. Without thinking, she ran forward, not even realizing until her feet had left the edge of the bridge that she was now falling too. Her hands clutched at nothing, just cold and empty air. _There isn't any end, as far as I can tell._ She screamed again and again, and the universe swallowed her screams.

* * *

Loki hadn't been prepared for any of this. After destroying the shadowy memory of Darcy's father, he had continued on, warily so. A deep, hollow pain had taken up residence inside of the god. He'd never known, never imagined _this_ to have been her world. It sickened him, made him feel pale and shivery on the inside. And yet, his Darcy was a fighter...She was incredible...She was slumped on the dirty floor of the bathroom in which Loki found himself after a rickety, ugly door had appeared in front of him.

Beside this phantom aspect of Darcy, there sat a near-empty bottle of Stoli vodka. She was much thinner, all sharp edges, pale and scrawny beneath layers of black clothing. Her head rested on the chipped toilet seat, almost as if she were too tired to lift it. Mascara smears punctuated the whiteness of her skin like bruises. She didn't seem to realize that he was there. Her normally bright eyes were dulled to a weak, foggy grey colour; they stared ahead, not really seeing. Loki felt the sight of her as sharply and acutely as splinters shoved underneath his fingernails. It ached. In the entirety of his existence, he'd never wanted to save anyone quite as much as this broken, fragmented aspect of his lover.

There came a pounding on the door, nearly rattling it on the hinges. ''Darcy!'' an angry male voice called insistently. She ignored it, raising her head up the faintest bit and then letting it drop wearily back down to the edge of the toilet. The door shook with another rattling, jostling knock. ''Darcy, get the fuck out of there!'' Loki wanted, suddenly and sincerely, to yank it open and punish whoever was on the other side. But he knew that there was only a reverberating echo of long-dead memory; it had no real shape.

''Fuck _you_,'' she swore wearily through cracked lips. The aspect tried to lift herself up, but the effort apparently sickened her because she quickly dropped back down and vomited several times.

The rattling of the door stopped. She seemed relieved, closing her eyes a moment. Then very slowly, as if she was regrowing her bones with each motion, she dragged herself away from the toilet and crawled over to the cleanest available corner of the ugly tile floor, right underneath the window where weak light filtered through the dusty blinds. She looked lost. Reaching out a thin-fingered hand, she dragged the near-empty vodka bottle along with her, holding it tightly like a security blanket. Closing her eyes, the aspect wrapped her arms around herself and the bottle, as if trying to hold everything together.

''Darcy?'' Loki attempted, though he knew she wouldn't answer. He'd found what he needed to find—the edge of her fear, the dead zone. Nobody had ever been there, before him. This was the place she buried, along with this corpse of memory and sorrow dressed in black and laying like a ragged doll on a dirty floor. He looked at her one last time, with a pained sympathy so bright and absolute that it felt like an ulcer. Her eyes stared ahead, unseeing. Though he hated himself for it, Loki felt a sudden great urge to be dramatic. Though Dead Zone Darcy had no awareness of his presence, he felt the powerful need to mark his visitation to this frightful and lonely corner of her mind. He wanted there to be no place—ever-where he could not reach her. _She's mine. _Loki recalled saying those words to Fury, a time that seemed now to be so long ago, in this space where time was utterly irrelevant. Looking around, the god spotted a small tube of lipstick sitting on the chipped sink. Snatching it up and winding it open he stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds, contemplating what to write, feeling very foolish, wondering if it would matter at all. He glanced back down to where she sat on the floor, a jumble of sadness and bones and rivers of mascara. Turning to the mirror once again he quickly scrawled out several well-chosen runes and then pulled open the door and walked heavily out of the room. Not looking back.

He had done it, had visited both the brightest and darkest reaches of her mind. Loki just wasn't certain how to cope with the fact that he was responsible for the light there, and not the darkness. Somehow, paradoxically, it just made him despise himself that much more. The god paused as his surroundings began to shift again in earnest, crashing like dizzy atoms, enveloping him in a blinding light. Somewhere, off in the distance, he heard a scream, felt a familiar presence being pulled nearer.

* * *

With a painful, clattering _thunk_ Darcy found herself amid a blank span of white. Her chest felt crushed. Horribly dizzy and disoriented, she tried desperately to drag mouthfuls of air into her lungs but it was a slow and miserable process. Everything was foggy and very strange. She groped blindly through the muted brightness. Soon familiar arms wrapped around her. Darcy blinked, returned the embrace with an agonizing forcefulness. It had seemed so_ real_. That spasm of terror in her heart as she had watched him fall, as she lost him.

''_We were just falling._'' She gasped out, trembling wildly under Loki's fingers. Her stomach hadn't yet stopped dropping out of her.

''It's over,'' came his reassuring voice, like velvet against her brain. ''You're safe now, I'm here.''

''Where are we?'' Darcy's mouth felt strange, as if each word were made of cotton and feathers.

''On the borderland. Between both of our minds. It's connection is as complete as it can possibly become. And it's strong enough. At least I hope so,'' he replied. His fingers tightened their grip on her, held her with a sudden loving ferocity.

''I can't feel my body,'' she said. Darcy still felt as though she were under a heavy thundercloud of anaesthesia.

''You will soon. We're going back now. Don't be afraid.''

She tried to concentrate on the pressure of his hands against her skin. It reminded her that she had form, was solid. ''Is this what being dead feels like?''

He chuckled, yet she felt him hold her even tighter. ''Darling, don't be so morbid. Being dead doesn't feel like anything. You are very much alive, even more than before. Don't panic,'' Loki continued, ''just breathe. I know this has been difficult, but you've done so beautifully and we're nearly finished. I'm so proud of you, beyond words.'' His voice sounded rather choked as he smoothed his hands soothingly down her back. ''Now...just...breathe.''

They faded back slowly, de-materializing and then reemerging until Darcy could feel the familiar confines of her own body, feel the bed underneath her. It seemed to be hours until she could move every limb and speak again, until she had the strength to shift and see Loki laying next to her, watching her with a deep sadness in his eyes that he tried to blink away once he saw that she was aware.

But then before she could reach out for him, ask why he looked so sad, a new sense seemed to arrive as well. It pricked at Darcy's brain, like little gold sparks behind her eyes. An understanding that drew her gaze like a magnet around to the bookshelf. Glancing at their spines, she realized with a great delight that the titles were no longer a mystery. Climbed hurriedly out of bed, she stumbled a little on her still-rubbery legs.

Loki sat up, stared after her curiously. ''What is it?''

Darcy had grabbed a large and rather arcane volume of spells from its place on the shelf and was flipping through it with a manic grin on her face. She paused and looked up at him, eyes shining.

''I can read the runes.''


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi my loves! Sorry about the big update gap! Here is the next chapter for you. :)**

* * *

**New York City**

Steve Rogers raised his head to glance at the eerie half-light that was creeping across the sky. The city was beginning to fall quiet, unnaturally so. Since meeting with the police commissioner and trying his best to ensure that the city would be as well-protected as possible from whatever was to happen next, the Captain had been feeling rather strange. It began as a kind of annoying vertigo that started at his toes and spread upward, radiating until it had reached his head, and now he felt as though his skull were being crushed by some unseen force. Still, the soldier tried his best to ignore the pain as he made his way back to SHIELD headquarters. As he headed down the street, Rogers came to the grim and unwelcome realisation that his surroundings had all begun to look the same, and he was certain now that he'd come this way before, many times, in fact. He was going in circles.

His head spun. It reminded Steve of when he caught a terrible flu one autumn as a child. His fever climbed so high that the air had felt like it was swollen with fog, and nothing made any sense. Now the world made one more swift, nauseating turn and then the feeling passed. The ground steadied, and he saw her. When he did, his heart nearly stopped. The Captain blinked wildly, trying to clear his head, to shake away what _must_ have been a mirage. But no, she was still there, standing in the middle of the street as if plucked from his memory. Young, beautiful, and completely unchanged. Waiting.

''Peggy?'' he whispered, unable to believe what he was seeing. She smiled. ''Hello, Steve.'' Peggy Carter held out her hand to him. And with an emotion halfway between joy and deep anxiety, the Captain moved forward.

* * *

**Day 3: **_**When The Walls Bend**_

_I watch you there_

_Through the window and_

_I stare at you_

_You wear nothing but _

_you wear it so well_

_Tied up and twisted_

_The way I 'd like to be_

_For you, for me_

_Come crash into me_

-**Dave Matthews Band**

* * *

Darcy continued to flip through the yellowed pages of the ancient tome that she had excitedly pulled from the shelf. A few feet away, Loki watched her with hesitation in his eyes. ''Darling, I'd be careful with that book if I were you; it's very old and contains quite powerful-''

''It's part quantum physics textbook, part ancient spellbook,'' she finished, pulling her glasses off of her face and looking up at Loki. Darcy's wide eyes were clear and bright, like moonlight reflecting off of snow. ''The strangest part is,'' she added slowly, ''I _understand _it.''

Closing the book with a sigh, she crossed the room to where he was and set it down on the table, resting her glasses on top of it. ''I don't need those anymore,'' she announced, disbelief laced through her voice.

''Well, that _is_ interesting,'' admitted Loki. He reached out to cup Darcy's face in his hand, studying her.

''It's pretty fucking _weird_,'' she said decidedly, laying a hand on his chest. Glancing back down at her glasses lying crookedly across the top of the book Darcy realized suddenly that they seemed like a foreign object to her rather than a consistent part of her appearance for years. Loki nodded in agreement with this assessment of the situation. ''How do you feel?''

Thinking for a moment, she answered, ''Normal...but somehow not. Better. It's like the first time that you connected your mind to mine, only more. Because it _is_ more, obviously. We—we're...'' Darcy couldn't seem to find the right words to express the sentiment properly and so she just listened to Loki's heart beating beneath her hand for a moment. ''I know how you do magic, except that it's not really magic, it's just—somehow like being naturally really, really good at music and math. I don't know how else to explain it.'' She smiled and shrugged. ''It just makes perfect sense, the way I know how to tie my shoes without having to think about it.''

Then she moved back just a little and blinked, her eyes darting back and forth as if she were reliving a memory she'd never seen before. Sadness rose like a dark wave, crashed onto her features. Darcy looked pained. ''I know that when you were standing on the roof with Thor, in New York during the battle, you were afraid, and tired. And for a second you were sorry, you were so very _sorry_ and you just wanted it all to be over. But it was too late.'' She saw it happen, she felt it happen. She understood, and it was awful. Tears glistened in the corners of Darcy's eyes and spilled down her face. ''Oh, god, I feel a million years old.''

Loki pulled her to him, brushing the tears off of her face with his thumbs and then kissing her, a kiss that felt like oxygen. The sensation was almost too intense, but wonderfully so, and Darcy let herself be taken under. And there she could see how deeply and terribly he cared for her. How beautiful and brave that he thought she was. But at the edges of all that warmth there lay a cold place of fear. It was raw there, and dark. It was a space where something awful had been, carved out a room for itself; a screaming sound and bright, bright pain. Without realizing it, Darcy had begun to kiss him more wildly, with a desperation that burned deep in her chest. She bit down on his lower lip and Loki growled, halting her.

''Do you really want to go there?'' he asked in a low voice full of desire, or possibly _fear_, Darcy wasn't sure which. Now she had grown very warm, her head was buzzing with the feel of him as if she were drunk, and she wanted more. Looking Loki firmly in the eyes, she said ''I'm already there. I think it's a little too late for those kinds of questions, don't you?'' Stepping back, a smile crossed Darcy's face as she slipped out of her nightdress. Her skin felt flushed and seemed to be humming. Loki stared at her, the hunger in his eyes burning her like a solar flare. Their emotions were dialed up to such a high volume that every glance now felt positively radioactive. They always seemed to find themselves here, this way, with those glances and that hunger.

''Like I told you once before, I honestly never knew that this was how I looked to you. I'm not saying that I've got low self esteem, or that I don't think I'm _attractive_. I do.'' She let out a little chuckle. ''But you just get so used to spending time in your own body and seeing your own face only in a mirror, or a photo that somehow, eventually you forget what you look like. Or rather, you realize that you never really knew at all. Yeah, I know that I have blue eyes and weird teeth and big lips and huge tits, but I've never known what I look like through someone else's eyes. Until you.'' Darcy paused and sighed, pushing back her hair, watching him follow the motions of her body with an appreciative look. She slipped inside his mind as effortlessly as a breath, turned a corner and saw what he was seeing, felt the emotions so strongly that they made her physically tremble and glow.

''Not to be narcissistic or anything, but in your mind, I look _incredible._ And to quote the great Sally Field, you _really_ _like me_. It's so strange...'' she trailed off a moment, fell still before continuing as a puzzled, shadowy look fell across her face. Darcy felt something else, saw it there. ''You're afraid. You...you don't know what you look like either but it's more than that. You're terrified to see. You refuse to even venture a glimpse at yourself through my eyes, because you think that...you think that you're disgusting.'' Sorrow cast over her eyes, drenching everything. ''Oh Loki, _no._'' Robbed of the warm high she'd been riding just a few seconds before, left feeling shivery and sick, Darcy whispered in astonishment, ''You _hate _yourself so...violently. I've never felt anything so horrible. It's like daggers, how do you live with that?'' she demanded raggedly.

Loki didn't answer, just stared at the floor with a blank, impassive face. Deciding that he needed a serious reality check, Darcy shook the awful feeling out of her mind and brought her hand up to slap the god upside his head.

''Ow, _why_?'' he said, blinking, looking adorably startled for a moment.

''It's so ironic,'' she said, crossing her arms over her bare chest.''You think that I don't see what you really are.''

''But Darcy, you _don't_ see what I really am,'' Loki said in tired voice, as if they'd been through this a thousand times before. Darcy put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. ''What, the _blue_ thing?'' she scoffed dismissively. ''I've seen you blue before.'' Then, looking stricken, she drew in a deep breath as she was hit with a powerful, shuddering jolt of realization. ''Oh but _you _haven't. Oh, god. Oh, no, baby—it's not like that at all!''

Darcy felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach. She understood so much more now. Loki had grown up believing in monsters; stories of Frost Giants had haunted his nightmares. And when he realized that he was one, he turned away from himself in a sudden bright motion of dissociative terror. But the nightmare pursued him. And it had literally driven him over the edge.

''Nobody hates you more than you,'' continued Darcy, and it hurt to say the words because they felt like bile. ''In fact, some part of you is almost _repulsed_ by the fact that I love you. Oh, hon, we need to fix this. Right now. Because I'm telling you right now that we have no chance of saving the universe unless we can save you. The Norns _want_ a broken Loki, they're banking on your self hatred.''

He swallowed, looked away from her, muttering ''It's not as though I can just turn it off.''

Darcy shook her head, her dark hair bouncing off of her shoulders and falling gently across her breasts. ''I'm not saying we're going to turn it off, I'm saying that we need to turn on the lights.'' She smiled a silky smile. Loki looked back at her, curiously. He quirked an eyebrow. ''How?''

''Hey, I showed you mine, now you show me yours,'' she said with a grin, trying to coax him into his Jotun form. He needed to be able to feel comfortable with this side of himself, to realize that he was not a monster to her. She could tell him until _she_ was blue in the face, but Loki wouldn't ever believe it. Just as he had given her a rare glimpse of herself through the eyes of another, she would do the same for him. Then maybe, Darcy hoped, some of the pain lodged deep inside of him would finally be able to ease and they would stand a better chance of surviving.

''No,'' was his stony reply. She expected this. She had prepared for this.

''Yes,'' purred Darcy, splaying her fingers out over his bare chest. He shivered. She could feel his heart begin to race, could feel how much he wanted her, and it made the blood pound in her veins and rush in her ears like a storm. ''This isn't going to hurt,'' she said, running her fingers down Loki's torso, lower and lower. ''I promise...I-'' Her seduction was interrupted by the sudden feeling of cold lips crashing against hers, of strong and pleasantly icy arms wrapping around her. _Well_, she thought, as her nerve endings registered a million wonderful new sensations, _that didn't take long._ Loki's teeth nipped at her bottom lip as he closed a hand over her breast, sending lovely, rather erotic chills all along her skin as she broke out into goosebumps. He was paying close attention to her as he always did, yet he was paying almost _too_ close an attention; all of his energy seemed focused on losing himself in her. He was trying to hide, to distract himself from his own body. Darcy moaned, unable to help herself, but then she grabbed a handful of his hair and held him still. ''Stop,'' she ordered, gripping Loki's chin in her hand, forcing him to look her right in the eyes.

His blue hands hovered over her skin; he looked puzzled and asked, ''Wasn't this what you wanted? I thought you were enjoying that.''

''Don't be cute, you _know_ I was enjoying it,'' Darcy told him pointedly. ''I'm a trickster now too, I can see how you think. And I think that you are faking right now.''

Loki scoffed and pulled her tightly to him, grinding his hips against her, his arousal obvious. ''I'm really _not,_'' he said, almost defensively.

''Well, duh,'' she replied. ''Like I could miss _that_.'' She flushed from head to toe, nearly breaking into a sweat at the feel of him against her. ''I mean you're not all in-''

''That's hardly my fault!'' he interrupted sarcastically.

Darcy realized that she had chosen her phrasing rather poorly.''Stop being witty, stop with the misdirection. What I meant was, you aren't fully _mentally_ tuned in and you know it. I can tell now when you're blocking something out. Yes, it feels good but it can feel better. I need you to slow down.'' She pressed her hands against the sides of his head, her skin was almost like fire against his. Darcy felt an urgent need to make sure that Loki was listening, really listening. The words burned through her as she began, ''You told me that you love being inside of me because I wanted you, because I wasn't afraid. And I'm not, but _you_ are. I know that have this repeating nightmare where I open my eyes and scream in terror after I see what you are, but that is _your_ nightmare and it is over now. You said that nobody ever worshipped you, but the truth is, you never _expected_ to be worshipped. You expected to be feared because that's the way monsters are treated.'' She stared into his eyes, drowning in red. She knew that he had heard her.

''Something got to you, and got in deep. It chewed a hole in you somewhere. But I can fix it.'' Darcy brought her mouth against his again, and slowly, she felt Loki relax into the kiss. He brought up his hands to drag through her hair, to run down over her back. His cold fingers felt impossibly wonderful on her skin. ''I want you to go inside my mind while we do this,'' she told him, her voice a low whisper. ''I want you to see what you look like to me, I want you to feel how you make me feel. Right now, it's not about how we see ourselves, it's how we see each other. That's how this all started. No words. Just two people looking at each other through a window, willing to see what was really there.'' She ran her fingertips gently along his face. ''The first night that we were together here you told me that you wanted me to look at you the way that I did through the window. Tonight, I'm going to show you what I saw. But you have to trust me, just the way I trusted you.''

He was silent, but she knew that he agreed.

It was beyond difficult for Loki to acknowledge himself in this form, especially in this situation. He would never be comfortable in his Jotun body, and it was particularly uncomfortable to have to touch Darcy while looking the way that he did. It nearly caused a panic attack for the god, but she _had_ trusted him with her life more than once and he owed her at least this much. And so he was in her hands, as she was in his, and then they began.

Color registered like slashes of paint, at first Loki hated the juxtaposition of dark blue against soft peach as his arms went around her, of rough against soft—but he relinquished some control to her and then the panic began to fade and the colors actually seemed quite beautiful together, that stark contrast. And she didn't grow too cold when he touched her, in fact the sensation was exquisite to her because her skin was so hot. Darcy tasted him gently with her tongue, discovering Loki all over again, trying to memorize this new icy world underneath her, just waiting to be taken. Fascination, curiosity, arousal, awe. Felt safe. So very safe. All warm feelings. When she was done exploring him he went to work on her, guided by sensation, by her desire. He could hear her thoughts, feel what she was experiencing as he touched her and he became more and more pleasantly startled by her reactions. No, she wasn't afraid of him looking this way...in fact, she _liked_ it. Because it was him, and she r_eally liked_ him.

_She liked the way he took his time when he made love to her, she'd never felt so satisfied ever before with anyone else and he would do that thing she wanted but none of her other boyfriends had ever liked to do for her and she wondered what it would feel like now-_

So he settled Darcy comfortably on the bed and slid down her body so that he could put his mouth between her legs and the sensation hit her like an electric shock and she moaned his name but he wasn't sure if it was out loud or in her head, she wanted to _cry_ because it felt so damn _good_. Her whole body was coiled tight like a spring and the tension was both exquisite and unbearable and her skin was getting so hot that she felt feverish and he kept working at her until she was absolutely at the brink, but he wouldn't let her go over, he just held her there until there was only one word in her head and it was his name and that was all she wanted and it was better than praying. Then he pulled away from her and it seemed that she felt an almost physical pain with the separation.

_I'm not ready for this_, he thought.

But she pulled him back. _I need you inside me._

Oh, and he wanted to be, he was desperate for her, he wanted to devour her. But only in the safety of a disguise.

But she kept begging and his name kept repeating.

_I'm not good. I'll never be good. I'm not a hero, _he tried to tell her.

_I never said you were_, she told him. _I don't want a hero. I want you. Is that ok? Is that enough?_

Unable to deny release to either of them any longer, he answered by leaning over her again, letting her clutch at his shoulders as he positioned himself at her entrance. She smiled up at him and he thrust inside her with one swift motion. Her nerve endings went wild, her body trembled in spasms of delight around him. As Darcy moaned aloud she rested her fingertips on the side of his head. _Now, see_.

Loki was coming undone with the connection of their bodies, with this lovemaking that had suddenly become a strange sort of ritual, of worship. With every motion of her hips she drew him more and more deeply into her body, but also into her thoughts, her spirit. He let himself be taken under, and then he saw what she saw. A man standing in a window, all the heat of her desire and trust pouring over him. Her warm hand holding his cold one with concern. A sick-looking man in a photograph with wild blue eyes, anger and pity and sorrow. Snow and confusion. The sensation of falling. _Fireicefireicefire_, not good not bad but just...enough. _I want you. Just you. I love you. _

He moved inside her; her mind glowed. And then he began to accept it, felt skin shudder and crave more a heart beating faster faster and then all the colors began to fade together and everything was warm.

* * *

Loki was shaking a little when he awoke later, and he was alone. He stared down at his body, which had returned to its usual, more human appearance. Darcy must have gotten up and gone into the hall, she liked to sit there with a cup of ale and try to read his books. Of course, he realized, now she didn't have to try. She _could _read them. Loki's eyes wandered over to the table where her glasses still lay. He didn't know how to feel about these new changes in Darcy, unsure whether the appropriate emotion was elation or dread.

Climbing out of bed, he quickly materialized some clothes and made his appearance more presentable. As he did so, Loki couldn't help but acknowledge that over the course of the past few days, his abilities, including those that had been previously bound, had returned with a renewed strength. His entire being felt charged and wired, not jittery exactly, just _full_. Thoughts of his time with Darcy hours before flooded his mind. He remembered the delicious feel of her skin underneath him, the way she had responded to his Jotun body. That dizzying connection he was impossible to fight against. _I want you. I love you_. He remembered the words, whispered as their bodies molded together, but was unable to recall who had said them. Perhaps it was a shared sentiment. This was wonderful and dangerous.

The minute that he stepped out into the hallway to go in search of Darcy, Loki felt a familiar, awful presence chilling the space and then he was no longer alone.

''Poor. Little. Boy. Blue.'' Skuld punctuated each word with venomous sarcasm as she glared at the god with malice in her eyes. ''You finally have someone to adore you, how quaint. How unfortunate for the girl. It's a shame, really,'' the Norn thoughtfully licked her lips. ''I was just starting to like her.''

Loki scowled at her darkly. ''Don't give me empty threats, you manipulative bitch.''

He felt a brief shock of pain as Skuld's long fingernails slashed across his face with her furious words as she rasped ''And you are an _insect_ to me, do you understand? _An ant has no quarrel with a boot_, remember? You can't deal out punishment and not be able to accept it yourself.'' She leaned in close and dug her talons into his skin. ''Everybody is somebody's bitch. And right now,'' Skuld said, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper, ''you are _my_ bitch, so I highly advise that you stop getting in my way and resign yourself to your fate like a good boy. Think about it, Loki,'' the Norn's voice grew even quieter, more cajoling. Her painful grip on his face loosened, and then she began to gently stroke his cheek with the edges of her nails. ''You secretly want it all to be over. You just want peace. Isn't there a terrible irony in that? You didn't want to come back. But you were brought back for a purpose, a _great_ purpose, a sacrifice that will right so many wrongs.''

Skuld smiled at him, a malicious smile that made Loki want to rip her face right off. ''And once you stop fighting,'' she went on, ''it can all finally end. And you can have what you've always wanted. Someone to love you forever and ever, and a place for you both to hide.'' She continued to stroke his face, but harder now again, more meanly. ''Don't pretend you didn't _know_. You knew perfectly well that once you joined your consciousness with hers that it was a one-way street. But you just couldn't let her get away, could you? You selfish, _selfish_ boy. Had to have her all to yourself. When you so gallantly offered to help, you failed to tell her about the potential...consequences. You blasted a hole into that poor child's mind and poured something else in, and now she's not exactly human anymore, is she? At least not while she's linked to you. In fact, you're the only way she's surviving now. But just because she has the consciousness of a god doesn't mean that she _is_ one. Eventually, her human body will burn itself up, short-circuit, and fail. The madness she will experience will make what's happening throughout the realms seem like a kindness. Give up, World Breaker. It will mean a better fate for both of you. She won't remember anything about being Darcy Lewis, but she will know she loves you. She will know that you belong together. I promise, there will be a kind of peace in that.'' Skuld smiled wider, showing her teeth. Then she released him, and vanished. Loki reached up to where her fingernails had gouged his face, pulled back and saw blood staining his hand.

* * *

Tony Stark arrived back at SHIELD and found himself once again amid a churning sea of chaos as Natasha and Banner struggled to restrain a violently disoriented Clint Barton. The archer's legs and one of his arms had been successfully wrestled into the secure cuffs on the rails of a bed in the medical lab. His free arm was flailing wildly, striking out at whatever was within reach. Banner hurriedly filled a syringe as the Black Widow tried her best to hold Clint still as he battled demons that only he could see.

Stark bolted into the room and joined Natasha's efforts, the two managing to successfully secure Hawkeye's arm in the other cuff. Banner let out a deep breath as he stuck the syringe into the still-thrashing archer. Clint let out a howl, struggled some more, his eyes bright with terror. Then he slowly quieted, his limbs stilling, his eyelids fluttering closed. Natasha drew in a shuddering breath, then gently smoothed back Barton's sweat-matted hair and looked up at Bruce, her eyes hard. ''What did Selvig say?''

Banner sighed and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. ''Probably nothing, and it's not important right now anyway, we already have more than we can handle.''

Stark glanced down at the now-sleeping Hawkeye. ''So I'm guessing he's caught whatever Fury and Science Girl have, right?'' Bruce nodded. ''Yes, unfortunately.''

Tony thought about this for a minute. ''But why did he go completely fucking apeshit? Foster just zoned off into Wonderland, she didn't act like someone in dire need of an exorcism.''

Natasha and Banner exchanged a glance, and then the Black Widow responded, ''We think that there's more to this sickness than meets the eye. It's almost...intelligent. And it seems to affect everyone slightly differently.''

Stark threw up his hands. ''Well, that's just fantastic. The city's about to go dark, the sky looks like Cthulu is about to come crashing through at any moment, and now our friendly neighborhood plague is playing choose-your-own-adventure with everyone's sanity.'' He glared stormily around the room.

''There's something else though, Tony,'' Natasha began, but the billionaire ignored her, asking ''Where's Rogers?''

Banner shifted uncomfortably, leaned against the desk.''That's actually what we need to talk to you about.'' The scientist looked very, very tired. ''We've lost communication with him, he's out there somewhere in the city. And he's in serious danger.''

Stark's eyes narrowed. ''What do you mean?''

''This...sickness. It turns your consciousness, your entire perception of reality, inside out. Imagine a neverending acid trip, then square that. It's fucking_ scary_, Tony, and it's going to be even worse for Rogers. He's already existed in two states,'' Bruce tried to explain. ''His sense of reality is fragile enough to begin with, can you imagine how vulnerable he'll be to these...shifts? His mind is a time bomb, literally. And I have no way of knowing what the effects will be—''

Tony was already on his way back out the door.

''Stark, wait-'' Natasha started, but he waved her off. ''I'm going to find him and get him back here. End of story. You two just...prepare.'' And then he was gone.

* * *

Loki caught up to Darcy in the great hall. She stood by the window, looking out. Hearing him approach, she turned. Her eyes widened when she saw the slashes on his face. ''Who did that to you?'' she demanded, furious. He realized then that she could see right through the simple spell he had done to hide the damage that Skuld had done with her fingernails. Of course.

''It was_ her_, wasn't it? Skuld and her fucking _claws,_'' fumed Darcy. ''I swear, I'd like nothing more than to rip her damn face right off.''

''She was in a particularly_ pleasant_ mood today,'' Loki joked wearily, trying to chase the look of concern from her eyes. Fortunately, they were both distracted by yet another horrifying new development in the weather. Drawn back to the window, the two stared out in disbelief.

''What...what is the sky doing?'' Darcy asked in a small voice. Every few moments, pockets of those hellish, grey-white clouds would crackle and illuminate, as if a giant bolt of lightning were striking through them. Then would come a boom like thunder, followed by...sounds. ''Listen,'' Darcy said, grabbing Loki's arm. ''They're different each time.'' Flash. Crack. _Boom_. A familiar piece of classical music. Flash. A voice advertising a brand of soap that didn't exist anymore. _Boom. _Winston Churchill giving a speech. And it went on and on.

''They're old radio broadcasts from earth, playing on a loop inside the storm,'' she said, her eyes full of wonder and fear. Loki put his hand on her shoulder. ''Holes are getting torn in time and space, the universe is starting to go insane. All the walls are coming down. This is just a side effect.''

They both turned at the sound of familiar heavy footsteps entering the hall and crossing over to them. ''My friends,'' Thor approached and greeted the two in a heavy voice, looking troubled. ''I do not trust these new signs.'' He leaned closer to Loki and whispered, ''Something is wrong here, brother. I can feel it.'' He paused, frowned even more deeply, then continued, ''You were correct before, when you said that this is not Ragnarok. Somehow, I fear that it is something even worse. The Allfather refuses to give us answers. And something tells me that war and bloodshed will soon be upon us.''

Loki was quiet for a moment, then his eyes met Darcy's and they exchanged a long look. ''What makes you say that?'' he asked.

Thor stared out the window. ''Because I know battle. And I can smell its approach.''

Noticing something out of the corner of her eye, Darcy turned to see Verdandi standing in the center of the room. Her pale, eerily shaded eyes seemed to stare at nothing, at everything. Then she began to walk, moving as if hypnotized.

Darcy tugged on Loki's arm. ''C'mon, we need to follow her.''

Thor shook his head. ''I've had enough of these witches and their dark designs. I'm going to see Jane.'' He turned to leave, walked a few feet before turning back around as if he'd forgotten something, a concerned look in his blue eyes. ''Brother, Darcy...please be careful. They seem to have taken a particular interest in both of you, and it troubles me.'' Then he hurried away.

Loki took Darcy's hand. ''Thor was always a little slow to catch up,'' he said, sounding almost a little melancholy. Together they followed Verdandi out the doors and down the path that led to the courtyard, where she stopped abruptly and raised her face to the sky as the clouds continued their wild broadcast. ''It happens,'' she said, her airy voice strangely elated. The icy wind whipped back her hair.

''Well, that sounds just a _little_ ominous,'' muttered Darcy, continuing to watch the unfolding events with a dread that climbed along her spine like vines. Now Verdandi's mouth moved, each transmission from the storm seemingly being channeled through her as well. The Norn stood rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on the clouds.

Darcy shuddered. ''All right, now it's getting _really_ fucking weird.''

Loki pulled her by the wrist. ''I really think we should go back inside now,'' he said and Darcy nodded in fervent agreement. As they left Verdandi standing in the courtyard and hurried up the path back to the main doors, a thunderous, piercing sound ripped through the atmosphere. A bolt of lightning tore through the sky and struck the ground.

''What was that, a fucking _meteor_ or something?'' shrieked Darcy as they ran.

''Definitely something,'' mumbled Loki, wrapping an arm around her. They ducked inside just as another boom sounded and lightning followed; it seemed closer this time. They stayed off to the side of the doorway and peeked back out. ''Listen,'' Darcy whispered, trembling. ''The radio broadcasts stopped. It's quiet.'' Sure enough, the air was still. It waited.

''That's not a good quiet,'' said Loki. His breathing quickened, as if he sensed something. Darcy felt his heart rate increase, and it made her pulse throb in tandem. ''It's a menacing quiet. Something's coming.'' Darcy looked out into the stillness of the courtyard. There came a rustle. Subtle, insidious, the sound traveled. Then the tree branches moved, leaves were crunched under heavy feet as a huge, hulking figure moved into view. Loki's hands tightened protectively around her as they observed the intruder. It was a man, but not a normal man. He must have been nearly seven feet tall, broad shouldered, massively muscled, nearly as large as Thor. Clothed in what looked like animal skins, his long tangle of hair and beard were caked with dirt and what appeared to be blood. But his eyes were what frightened Darcy the most. Bright, mad, and murderous, with a glint that suggested he was more demon than human. This was a man capable of anything, and clearly looking for something. He sniffed the air like a predator trying to catch a scent.

Darcy dug her fingers into Loki's arm. Then she jumped a little, an electric jolt of fear piercing her as she heard twigs crunching underfoot and saw that a second man, just as large and monstrous and bloody, had appeared on the grounds.

''Berserkers,'' whispered Loki, paling slightly. ''Madmen at the best of times, living in two states, at the mercy of their worshipful bloodlust. How I always pitied them.''

''But...but how are they _here_?'' Darcy asked, shaking wildly, feeling her fingertips go cold. She recalled the legends of the warriors, driven insane in the heat of battle, working up to a kind of homicidal delirium. Loki shook his head. ''Time means nothing anymore. The energy from some battle a thousand years ago slipped through the cracks that are forming and transported them here, who knows? Maybe it was the answer to a prayer, or merely some...new madness.''

The two berserkers were joined by a third, and then a fourth. In tandem they began to lumber forward towards the doors, their eyes aflame with unholy light.

''We need to move.''

''Yeah.''

Loki grabbed Darcy's hand and they ran, the sound of splintering wood and breaking glass following close behind.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello loves! Thank you again for all the reviews and support, I'm so glad that you like this story as much as I do! This chapter is slightly shorter than normal, but that's because it's a transitional chapter. As always, hold on tight!**

* * *

_All in green went my love riding_

_on a great horse of gold_

_into the silver dawn_

_four lean hounds crouched low and smiling_

_my heart fell dead before_

– **e. e. cummings**

* * *

**New York City**

''Peggy?'' Steve blinked. ''I don't understand. How is this happening?''

She smiled at him, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. ''Oh Steve,'' Peggy laughed a little, now, and the sound was strange and hollow to his ears. ''Time doesn't mean anything here.'' She gripped his hand even harder. The Captain glanced nervously at the empty city around him. The air felt strange, the endless, hesitant feeling of calm before a storm that failed to arrive. ''Where is everyone?''

''They're fine, darling, they're all _fine_. You can rest now. It can just be _us_.'' Peggy leaned forward and pressed a small kiss against his mouth, then pulled back, smiling. ''Remember, you still owe me a dance.''

* * *

**Asgard**

Pandemonium broke out. Having apparently been alerted to the threat, Sif and her warriors rushed into the hall just as the Berserkers came crashing through the windows and doors, shattering glass in their wake as they overturned tables and struck at everything in sight as if it were an enemy. Once the possessed men caught sight of Sif and the Three, their eyes seemed to flame with a terrible, hungry delight drenched in rage, as if this were all some sort of macabre game. Darcy and Loki were spun around and clear into battle as if turned helplessly by a tide. So much for getting out of the Berserker's way, now they were both clearly visible to the attackers. Adrenaline screamed through her veins with such ferocity that Darcy felt as though she were being mainlined battery acid. Her hear pounded out a jittery staccato rhythm that she was helpless to quiet. And yet she didn't feel weak. Rather than draining her clean into a faint, the energy shifted direction until it vibrated up Darcy's spinal column and burned at the top of her skull like fire.

Loki whirled around, bolts of energy flying out from his fingertips and striking their attackers. She had to pause for half of a second and admire the long lines of his lean body, his poise and agility. It was nearly beautiful, the icy grace with which he moved. ''My baby can _fight, _Darcy thought appreciatively, unable to deny the jolt of desire that shot straight to her core, despite the inappropriateness of the timing. Then, with some sort of supernatural instinct, she noticed a Berserker across the room, moving towards him with a bloody and mindless fury.

''Loki!'' Darcy screamed, ''Behind you!'' Her hand shot out defensively, and before she'd even realized what was happening, she felt a large bolt of energy pass through her and the Berserker had been violently tossed several feet away. He landed heavily on the floor, and stayed down. Stunned, Darcy looked down at her hand. When she looked up, Loki's eyes met hers with a deep and unreadable expression.

Suddenly there came a loud cracking sound and Thor roared into the hall, flying at the intruders with his hammer extended. The four Berserkers were easily outmatched by the might of Asgard, and in what seemed like only moments, they were all lying along the floor of the great hall, sprawled almost sadly, looking smaller in death. Nobody said anything for a moment, there was only the sound of seven people breathing.

Then Sif spoke first. ''These men should _not_ have been here. How have they entered our halls? And why do they attack their gods, they who fought in service to the Allfather?'' She shook her head. ''This is dark magick.'' She cast a glance over at Loki, her first instinct naturally to place blame upon him, but this time she seemed find it impossible to do so. The warrior woman looked momentarily weary, and afraid.

''War has found its way to the Halls of Asgard. Some sorcery lurks in our midst.'' Thor spoke up now, setting down his hammer. ''And it has just begun.'' The thunder god looked at Loki. ''Brother, if I may have a word-''

''Not now,'' Loki answered coldly, taking Darcy by the hand and moving toward the door.

''But Loki-'' Thor started again, at the same time that Fandral spoke up with ''Did anyone else see what she-''

''I said _not now_!'' roared Loki, spinning around and facing them all. As he did so, the remaining few windows in the hall exploded in a hail of glass. Everyone was silent for a moment, though Sif and Hogun leaned forward, gripping their weapons defensively. ''Leave us in peace,'' he said, more quietly now but no less coldly. He put his arm around Darcy, and led her out of the hall and around the corner, where they ducked into a narrow corridor. Suddenly, she stopped moving. Loki turned around and watched as a curious look overtook her features.

''Oh,'' Darcy's eyes grew wide, first in surprise and then in pain as she rolled up her sleeve and looked at the bare skin of her arm. There, slowly, a string of runes were beginning to appear, etching themselves into her flesh. ''It's _burning_,'' she cried, wincing. ''What's happening?''

''I...I don't know,'' admitted Loki, deep concern sparking in his eyes as he took hold of her elbow. Then, mercifully, the pain abated and Darcy stared down at the runes, which had begun to fade as quickly as they had appeared. She let out a shaky breath and looked at Loki.

''I...I broke this same arm once, I think,'' she said, blinking, looking briefly confused as she cast another glance down at the now-unblemished skin. ''But...I...'' Darcy's eyes darted back and forth in an attempt to clutch at the memory but finding only a blank space. ''I can't remember how. But I'm positive I broke it.'' She laughed nervously, feeling oddly queasy, and full of pins and needles. ''But maybe that was just a dream. Now, where did you say we were going?'' She tried to shake off the feeling, pretend nothing had happened because the look on his face was breaking her heart just a little. Their eyes met and they made a silent agreement not to talk about what had just transpired, not now.

''We need some insurance,'' he replied, leading her to the end of the corridor, in front of what appeared to be a stone wall. Loki closed his eyes, concentrated, and tapped at three of the stones in varying patterns, as if rapping out a code. Then, as Darcy watched, the wall actually moved apart, sliding open like a door to reveal a long flight of stairs. Loki stepped down, held out his hand. ''It's alright. Come on.'' Darcy slipped her fingers through his and let him lead her down into the darkness. She clung to him, mindful of her footing on the old stone stairs, terrified that she would trip. Finally, they reached the bottom, found themselves inside a dusty corridor. Darcy coughed. The air smelled wickedly old and stale. Mercifully, lights flickered ahead to show them the way, ancient torches that burned along the walls as if awaiting visitors.

The two continued walking through the narrow, lightly sloping passageway, seeming to be heading further and further underground. Whatever was hidden down there must have been very secret, because it looked like these tunnels had scarcely been traveled, and they wound on for miles, until there was only dust and dirt beneath Loki and Darcy's feet and the walls transitioned from gold and marble to ancient-looking stone, scarred with old, strange runic slashes. There was an even brighter light up ahead, the corridor led up to a narrow alcove beyond which there lay another room. The torchlights created macabre shadows along the walls.

With some trepidation, Darcy followed Loki into the chamber. It was almost completely empty, except for some sort of artefact that stood in the center. At first she couldn't quite make out what it was, but then as she moved closer, it came into clear, horrid view.

It was a head, Darcy realized, bile rising into her throat. A severed human head, perched atop a small column of stone, its ancient skin pale and waxy. It looked somehow still...alive.

''This is the head of Mimir, the being who guarded the well of knowledge,'' Loki told her, his mouth set in a grim line. Upon hearing its name, the head's eyes flew open to reveal chilling, deep pools of onyx.

''How dare you, you insolent boy!'' it roared in a cracking voice. ''What do you think you're playing at?''

''I'm not playing,'' Loki replied, the words icy. He opened his hand and Darcy could see that in his palm there now lay a very long, sharp needle and a small spool of thread. Her heart turned a painful cartwheel inside of her chest at the thought of what this could mean.

''I know that the Norns speak to you. I know that you reveal your secrets to Odin,'' Loki started.

''An eye for an eye!'' the head cackled, then it winked crudely at Darcy, who could barely suppress a shudder.

Loki patiently waited until the head of Mimir was calm. ''And I know that you _dream_. I know you tell what you see in those dreams. And I'm afraid I can't permit that. You see, I don't like the thought of you running off at the mouth.''

Mimir's head quirked up an eyebrow at this. ''Oh? And what do you intend to do about that?'' It looked pointedly at the needle and thread in Loki's hand.

''I intend to blaspheme, and blaspheme severely,'' answered the god, moving forward, the needle in his fingers glinting in the light of the chamber. _Oh no_, thought Darcy. Her stomach heaved as she realized what was about to transpire. ''I'm sure you know what a thread looks like,'' he added icily. ''And I want you to watch closely. Watch as this innocent, unassuming...thread gets wound in. I want you to watch how easily something as benign as a thread can, in the wrong hands, become an instrument of control and pain. Please watch...very...closely.''

''Go on,'' the head hissed. ''Go on, I dare you!''

''Is that it?'' Loki asked with a lopsided, mean smile, pausing for the briefest moment. ''No protestations? No shrieking of cryptic prophesies? No dire warnings? You've gone soft, old man. I'm disappointed, after all the theatrics that the Norns have managed.''

The head of Mimir said nothing, merely stared at the two of them with a lonely, almost melancholy expression on its face. ''As if it would do any good,'' it said in a voice tinged with a weariness so genuine that Darcy was almost convinced.

''That would be overkill, World Breaker, and you know it. Go ahead, do what you must. You are only one of many that I fear. I know what you intend to do. But do you?'' It laughed again, the sound seeming all the more portentous because of the terrible wisdom that it seemed to be withholding.

Darcy turned away. _It's just otherwordly melodrama,_ she reassured herself. _They've had years to rehearse._ She tried to console herself by recalling a version of _Hamlet_ starring David Tennant that she'd watched on PBS while slightly tipsy. It didn't help._ To sleep, perchance to dream..._ No, it didn't help at all. She was screwed.

''Oh get on with it then, sew me up if it makes you feel better, though it really won't change a thing.''

The god moved closer. ''No,'' Darcy whispered aloud, afraid to look. _It must be done_, Loki told her resignedly. He threaded the needle and then with great precision jabbed it through the lips of Mimir's head and began to sew its mouth closed. It let out a sound between a bark of laughter and a shriek as the needle pierced its flesh. The sound continued until it grew more and more muffled, until Loki was finished. Then he stepped back to stand beside her again. Darcy's stomach rolled and her skin felt cold and clammy; for a moment she was absolutely certain that she might either vomit or faint, but she steadied herself. This...head was one of the people who was conspiring to trap her forever in a pit of madness and venom, true, and perhaps this was necessary, but she was only human, and confused, and there were tears behind her eyes, which she quickly blinked away. Mimir wouldn't speak again for quite some time.

''Won't someone see what you've done and just remove the thread?'' she asked, once she could find her voice.

Loki shook his head. ''There's an enchantment on this thread, it binds any sort of communication between Mimir and Odin, through speech or telepathy. He can't call out for help in any way. He's alone down here until someone comes looking for him, and it's doubtful that they'll come within the next few days, not with everything else that's happening. Even then, the thread will take quite some time to remove, and after there will still be residual binding effects.''

''Oh, Loki...'' Darcy said with a heavy sigh in her voice as she looked at Mimir's head, its black eyes boring into them, aflame with rage. ''Why does it have to be so barbaric?''

''It was done to me,'' he replied quietly, staring ahead with no expression on his face, his eyes cold.

''This world should never dole out punishment that it cannot withstand, that's cowardly.'' He took her hand. ''Don't look back,'' he told her, then pulled her along. She didn't, just slipped her hand into Loki's and the two of them turned and headed out of the chamber. But Mimir's haunting black eyes still burned in her mind, and Darcy was certain that she wouldn't forget them anytime soon.

''I'm sorry that you had to watch that happen,'' he told her, once they were nearly out of the tunnel and back up into the palace.

Darcy couldn't help it, she crumpled. Her legs seemed to stop moving of their own accord, and she stood, frozen, and clamped a hand down over her mouth before she even realized that she was crying. But it was a dry grief, there were no tears, though she wished they would come. Instead, it was a terrible wave of crippling exhaustion and sadness that rushed up from the soles of her feet and seemed to mainline itself right to her heart. She was making a terrible sound, a keening wail, primitive and raw. Darcy hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop. She simply stood there, with her hands clamped furiously around her face, trying to block the noise, both from her own ears, and Loki's. And oh, Loki was standing there, deadly still, watching her with a pale, agonized look on his face.

''Oh, my love,'' he began, reaching out for her, and that was when the tears finally came to Darcy, though they brought no relief.

* * *

There didn't seem to be any correct way to measure time anymore. There was no sun or moon in the sky, no bright blue or midnight, merely an unending swirl of ghostly gray. Nothing felt right, everyone seemed to be dragging, as though they were shuffling and blinking through a vast fog that only grew thicker. But Darcy was surprisingly clear-headed, if not rather shaken. It had been admittedly difficult watching Loki sew Mimir's mouth shut. The look in his eyes. Cold, so very cold. And his hand had been so steady, so controlled. Yet once she had broken down crying in the corridor, he was a completely different man, pulling her into his arms and comforting her, rocking her and kissing her face and lips with an impossible gentleness. She knew that he had felt an agonizing guilt and sorrow not because of his actions, but _because she had been upset by them_. Despite her unique understanding of his nature, he never ceased to shock her with the force of his changeability. Or his devotion.

''What are you wearing?'' asked Loki as they stood in his room again. ''I meant to ask you earlier. Those clothes, where did you get them?'' When the god had gone to find Darcy in the great hall, before the Berserker attack, he had noticed that she was no longer wearing the long gowns that she despised so, and was now clad in an attractively form-fitting bodysuit similar to what the Romanov woman wore. It did terrible, delicious things to him, that way the material clung to her curves.

''I made them,'' replied Darcy almost sheepishly, looking down at herself and then back up at him. ''I don't know exactly...how...I just _thought_ about it in that weird music-and-math way and then they were...on my body.'' She shrugged, let out a little cough of laughter. ''I just couldn't deal with the dresses, anymore. I need to be comfortable if I'm going to save the world.''

''You look wonderful like this,'' he said, and as he stared at her Darcy felt her skin flush in that weird, unique response that only Loki could evoke in her.

''Does Heimdall know how the Berserkers got in?'' Darcy asked, trying to get back on topic.

Loki scoffed. ''Heimdall no longer has any say in who comes in or out of Asgard. The shifts have rendered his services...obsolete.''

''So more people can get in? And from any time or place?''

''Theoretically, yes. They've doubled the guard and posted extra lookouts. Took the Berserkers out to be burned in a funereal ship. The poor wretches didn't know what they were doing. They didn't even realize...they were attacking their own gods.'' Loki paused a moment. ''We're going to have to leave very soon. No matter what is going on around us. You and I are going to have to go and find the Tesseract tonight.''

''Do you know where it is?'' Darcy asked. Her fingertips twitched along the page of the book she was reading.

''It's hidden in a chamber beneath the palace. It won't be easy to get to. There are going to be specific...gates that we're going to have to pass through,'' Loki explained.

''That sounds a little vague,'' she said, wrinkling her nose.

''I don't know everything, Darcy. I'm trying my best.'' Loki's quiet voice sounded hard and tired.

''Hey...'' she said softly, and he looked up at her with weary green eyes. She smiled at him reassuringly. ''Baby, it's-'' then suddenly she broke off, looking as if she'd just been struck. Her face twisted in pain. Then she screamed. Darcy's eyes opened impossibly wide, revealing an unnatural onyx hue. Loki watched in horror as runes tore themselves into her skin with swift and bloody slashes. She screamed again and again. His blood turned to ice.

''Darcy!''

''No-no!'' she told him, holding out her hand. ''You have to stay back! Trust me!'' Now Darcy was tossed violently off of the chair by an unseen force. It dragged her along the floor, then lifted her up until she was suspended in the air in front of him, held there at an unnatural angle. She screamed and contorted as more runes appeared, burning themselves into the skin of her neck. Her black eyes burned widely as bloody etching carved into her face, her arms, nearly every visible expanse of flesh. Loki fell to his knees, a feeling beyond fear stabbing its way through him. _What had he done_? Because he knew, oh he _knew_, somehow this was his fault. And if he lost her, now that they'd come so close to being...to being...

All thought vanished from the god's mind as whatever force had gotten hold of Darcy suddenly loosened its grip and she fell to the floor like a rag doll. He ran to her, pulled her frantically into his arms. After a moment, she opened her eyes and they were once again their normal, beautiful shade of clear blue. Loki held her as the burning runes slowly faded from her skin.

''Darcy, what was that?'' the god ground out as he rocked her in his shaking arms.

''I guess I...asked a question. And that was the answer.'' She drew in a deep breath, tried desperately to steady her voice. Her skin was very pale. ''I know how to find the Tesseract. I know exactly where it is.''

''Darcy, I told you, I-''

''No, no...it's more hidden than that. Yes, it's in a chamber, but the chamber itself is other-dimensional, and there are three gates, not two. I can see them, in my mind. And at each gate, there is a sacrifice required for entry. And we have to leave soon.''

''Not yet,'' he said thickly, pulling her against him, burying his face in her neck, breathing her in. ''Just let me hold you like this for a little while.'' Darcy could feel his tears, cold along her skin.

''Oh please don't ever do that to me again!'' he cried, burying his fingers in her hair.

''I told you to trust me,'' she said, smiling weakly even as she also fought back tears. ''I can help. You're not doing this alone.''

''No, but if I lose you along the way than this is all for nothing, Darcy. I'm not going to save any worlds if you're not going to be in them.''


	18. Chapter 18

**Asgard**

Even from inside the room, they could hear the sudden sound of more explosions tearing through the air outside. Then came footsteps and yelling.

''Now,'' whispered Darcy, still lying on the floor in Loki's arms. ''We have to go now.'' She scrambled quickly to her feet, grabbing Loki by the wrist and pulling him along.

''Wait—you don't-'' he began, but she had already yanked the door open and darted out into the hall, where an awful symphony of crashing and screaming and pounding feet could be heard again from several chambers. Clearly, Asgard was once again under attack, though now from whom she didn't know. Darcy could barely register any of it, all she could hear was the rushing in her own head, the stabbing sensation of urgency pulling her along. She followed it like a thread to the wall at the end of the hallway, the wall that Loki had opened before to lead them down to Mimir. Without even thinking about it, as if it were a simple and natural reflex, she reached out her hand and tapped at three of the stones—different this time from the ones Loki had knocked on before. The wall began to slide open.

Darcy felt a hand rest on her shoulder and turned to see Frigga standing there. ''You both had better move quickly,'' the Queen said. She threw what looked like a silvery cape around Darcy's shoulders. Once the material touched her skin, though, it vanished inexplicably from sight. ''Best to leave this on for a little while, dear,'' Frigga told her, then drew her close in a hug. ''You know about the third gate, right?'' the Queen whispered into her ear. Startled, Darcy nodded. ''But how-'' The goddess shook her head, then reached for Loki, whose pale face was a mask of confusion and fear. ''You _must _stay together, whatever happens,'' she told them both firmly as she released him from her embrace. ''Go now. The rungs are weakening. You can pass down more quickly.'' Seeing the questions burning in both sets of their eyes, Frigga simply waved them along down the passage. Then she tapped her hand against the stone once they were both inside the ancient stairwell. ''Don't try to get back this way. You won't be able to. Remember—stay together!'' The stones slid closed, and she was gone.

* * *

**The First Gate**

_Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, _

_Brief as the lightning in the collied night, _

_That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, _

_And ere a man hath power to say, 'Behold!' _

_The jaws of darkness do devour it up: _

_So quick bright things come to confusion_

_-_**A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 1, Scene 1**

* * *

It was dark, at first. They followed the path along, clutching each other's hands, sounds of their breathing echoing. They were like lost children wandering in the dark. Then light began to pour out from beneath the stonework of the walls and floor. The dust and dirt began to fade into something else, a shimmering, dark marble that led up to an archway. A flutter of electricity permeated the air, and Darcy could tell that they weren't alone. Sure enough, before she could blink, a man appeared before them, standing directly in the center of the arch. Clad in a business suit and tie, he was middle-aged and neatly put together, with dark hair and cold, silvery eyes. He looked like some sort of CEO hell bent on a lucrative merger.

''You _are_ getting bolder by the minute.'' The man smiled now, a calculated smile. ''I'm impressed. Your little stunt with Mimir?'' he tutted. ''Poor old fellow. I really don't see what you thought you'd be accomplishing. Mimir's rather like the guards with the tall hats at that Midgardian palace, he's a relic from a time long past, kept standing out of pageantry and respect. He's quite tired, you see, and really rather cross with _you_, Son of Laufey, as we all are. But no matter. You are here now. An auspicious place to be.'' He looked down at the expensive looking watch on his wrist.

''Who _are_ you?'' Darcy asked him.

''Well, for the purposes of our story, I think I'll call myself Balder,'' the man said with a thin, sharp smile, then added, ''Oh, you wouldn't recognize me, not yet. I'm not in your memories, such as they are. But I will be. And then you will be very sorry.''

''And why is that?'' asked Loki, his eyes narrowing.

''Because of what you've done, of course,'' Balder replied politely, as if this should be quite obvious.

Then, curiously, he moved aside to let them through.

Darcy threw him an apprehensive and disbelieving look. He rolled his eyes. ''Yes, girl, of course I am letting you pass—why do you look so surprised? We all want the same thing, after all.'' Balder smiled and bared a mouthful of jagged, yellow teeth, an ugly and unwelcome contrast to the rest of his neat visage. ''A happy ending.'' And then he disappeared, leaving the archway empty.

''We have to,'' Darcy said, her frightened heart fluttering painfully against her ribs. They both moved forward. The archway was narrow, and so they had to pass through single file. Loki tried to keep her hand tightly in his, but the moment Darcy stepped under the arch she vanished, and the god found his hand clutching at empty air. Icy fear washed over Loki. He darted through after her, only to find himself alone in a dark room. Then, slowly, light began to flood in, radiating out from a single spark, and his surroundings began to take form. He found himself standing in what looked to be the living room of an apartment. It was spacious, very nicely furnished and decorated.

''There you are,'' came Darcy's familiar voice from behind him. Loki turned and saw her standing there, wearing a short back dress that she seemed to be struggling greatly with. She sighed and shook her head. ''Can you please come help me with the back of this stupid outfit?''

So it wasn't really Darcy. He was inside another dream, it seemed. Loki wondered how well he could navigate through this one. Obligingly, he walked over as she turned her back to him, sweeping her long dark hair up and out of the way. As he slowly inched up the zipper on her dress, his fingers brushed against her bare skin. Illusion or not, she certainly felt like his Darcy, soft and warm. She spun around and pressed a small kiss against his lips. ''Thank you, sweetheart.''

Then she added, ''You better hurry up and get ready. We're supposed to meet Jane and your brother in an hour.'' Darcy headed into the brightly lit kitchen, searched in the refrigerator for something. As she did so, Loki turned and caught his own reflection in one of the ornately framed mirrors on the wall. He looked different now, ever so slightly. His hair was cut shorter, his skin not quite as icy pale. He looked human. Ordinary.

''Done admiring yourself yet?'' asked Darcy, now beside him again. She handed him a glass of champagne. As he accepted it from her, he noticed that there was a very large and expensive-looking diamond on her finger. She clinked her glass against his and took a sip, then smiled widely. ''Yep, that's good stuff. I feel all fancy.'' She set the drink down on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around him. ''I'm really happy right now,'' Darcy told him, then stood on her tiptoes and brought her soft mouth close to his. ''Aren't you?''

* * *

She had somehow gotten separated from Loki after crossing through the archway. In fact, Darcy seemed to have gotten separated from _everything_—the world had gone dark around her. Then a tiny spark like a firefly began to dance and quiver in front of her eyes and before she could even blink again, Darcy found herself in what seemed to be a room in someone's house, or maybe an artist's loft. Her surroundings were what could be described as a cheerful, bohemian chaos, from the patchwork sofa to the tapestry hung over the window as a makeshift curtain. The walls were covered in paintings, beautiful works full of vibrant colour. An expensive-looking guitar leaned in the corner. Bookcases stood against the wall; she walked over and could see that many of her favourite titles were shelved there, as well as, much to Darcy's surprise, several books with _her_ name on the spines. Curious, she pulled one off of the shelf. Sure enough, a rather flattering black and white photo of her graced the back cover. Apparently, in this...dream, or whatever it was, she was an author. Interesting. Turning the book over in her hand, she got a look at the title: _Sins of Love and Memory_ by Darcy Lewis. ''Good _grief_,'' she whispered with a shake of her head. That was a cheesy title if she'd ever heard one. 'I really should talk to my editor about that,' Darcy thought jokingly, flipping it open.

_Very little of Katrina's memory had returned since the accident, and though she was initially wary of Tom, the feeling of familiarity and desire that drew her to him was impossible to deny. Their chemistry was purely electric, every time he touched her he set each of her nerve endings on fire._

''Oh, for god's sake...'' Darcy mumbled as she turned the page and continued reading what was apparently her own novel.

_Katrina slid the dress off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Tom's gaze roved hungrily over her naked body as he moved closer to her and_

Darcy closed the book. ''I'm a _smut _writer,'' she said aloud, almost disbelievingly, vacillating between extreme pride and extreme embarrassment. But, she noted wistfully, at least she was a _popular _smut writer , or so it appeared. According to the cover, this one had been on multiple bestseller lists. She shook her head again and returned the novel to the shelf.

There was a little kitchen off to the side, which she began to explore. On the refrigerator, there were post-it notes in her handwriting and also another person's: _buy milk! T. Stark called, wants to talk about gallery showing. Don't forget—dinner with T & J at 7 pm—pick up a bottle of wine!_ There was also a photograph held up by a magnet. Darcy looked closer. It was her and Loki in the picture, but they looked slightly different. His hair was shorter and lighter, and hers was straight rather than wavy, cut into a sleek bob. They had their arms around each other, were standing against the backdrop of city lights. Darcy reached up and felt her hair, noting that it _was_ shorter and straighter than normal, just like in this picture. Looking down at herself, she noticed that there were other differences in her appearance here as well: rather than the black bodysuit that she had created for herself earlier, she was now wearing a breezy summer skirt and a lavender tank top. Underneath the jade bracelet on her wrist, she could see a small tattoo there, a sequence of runic lettering spelling out a familiar name.

''Hey love,'' came a voice from behind her. She whirled around to see Loki standing there. He was wearing jeans and a thin grey t-shirt, both splattered in paint. He looked the way he did in the picture stuck to the fridge: eyes brighter and happier, his entire disposition seeming generally sunnier. And then it hit her. This Loki looked exactly the way that he had in her dream, right after Jane had gotten sick. The one where he sang to her. The dream she hadn't wanted to leave.

He smiled warmly at her now, the corners of his eyes crinkling attractively. Darcy's heart felt strangled. ''Did you have a good nap?''

''I...um...yeah, it...was good.'' She stammered a little, deciding to play along.

''Did you have that weird dream again?''

''Um...nope, don't think so. Not this time,'' she replied.

'Loki' nodded. ''Well, I'm gonna finish up this last little bit and then call it a day. I promised Stark that the piece would be ready on Friday, I'm actually ahead of schedule for once, if you can believe it.'' He reached out and pulled her close, resting his hands on her waist. _It felt so real. It felt so warm_. Darcy was momentarily dizzy.

''I know we've both been really busy lately, but hopefully now we can just enjoy these next few days together.'' Loki ran his fingers through her hair, down over her back. ''But, unfortunately, right now we've gotta get going. It's already almost five and we both still need to get ready. Traffic's gonna be a bitch.'' He leaned forward and captured her mouth in a kiss. His lips were warm and human and Darcy was growing more and more confused and aroused by the minute. Whatever was going on here was both very enticing, and very dangerous. He reluctantly pulled away from her with another sunny smile. ''I'm gonna go clean up and then grab a shower,'' Loki told her, squeezing her shoulders affectionately. She nodded at him, and watched him leave.

'Ok,' Darcy told herself. 'Wasn't expecting this. Don't know what I was expecting, but definitely not _this_.'

* * *

Loki suddenly found himself standing next to Darcy in front of a door. They were outside, apparently on someone's front steps. She breathed and her breath made little puffs in the air. ''Chilly out here tonight,'' she observed, wrapping her long, elegant black coat more tightly around herself. Darcy looked glorious, her hair bound up in an intricate twist, a sparkling emerald necklace resting against the creamy pale skin of her throat. Deep red lipstick accentuated her full mouth and though Loki now had no idea where this illusion was taking him, he couldn't help but feel overcome by desire for her. He started to say something when the door swung open. Thor was standing there, attired in a well-tailored suit, a huge smile on his face. ''Come in! So happy that you both could make it.''

He ushered them into the foyer and took their coats. ''Go on into the living room, Jane will be out in a second.'' Not knowing where the living room was, Loki followed Darcy, who seemed at ease with their surroundings, which were, Loki had to admit, quite nice. In this dream, it appeared that both he and Thor were quite well-off. He was briefly curious as to their occupations in this reality. He was curious about a lot of things, and this curiosity was troubling. It felt like an insect bite, begging to be scratched.

After a few moments, Jane entered the room, looking elegant and stylish in a black pencil skirt and grey silk blouse. She wrapped Darcy in a friendly hug, then released her and pulled Loki close, also. He tried not to flinch in utter surprise. Every time he saw that woman now he instinctively braced himself to be slapped across the face. ''So glad that you both could come. Ah, Clint-'' she said as another figure entered the room. Jane waved the man over.

''Darcy, Loki, I'd like you to meet Clint Barton, he's a friend of Thor's from work.'' Barton shook both of their hands. ''Great to meet you finally. And congratulations—Jane tells me that you two recently got engaged. How do you feel?''

''I couldn't be happier,'' said Darcy, and the look of sincere joy radiating from her face was like a knife twisting in Loki's spleen.

''Tell Clint how you two met,'' said Jane, now pouring wine into several glasses. ''This is a funny story, Clint, you'll love it.''

Darcy giggled a little. ''Ok, well I had just moved to the city from New Mexico-''

''—I'd been trying to get her out here for _months_,'' Jane interrupted with an eye-roll, now handing out glasses of wine. ''She finally broke down.''

''And I'm glad that I did. See, I had just moved into my new apartment, and I didn't have any curtains...'' she continued on with the story as Loki turned away, his attention now drawn to something on a table in the corner of the room. It was a candle, but the flame was glowing bright blue, and not just at the bottom by the wick. The entire flame. Loki could hear laughter from Darcy, Clint, Jane, and now Thor as Darcy went on. ''...And so of course I was _mortified_. Then, if you can believe this, the next day I bump into him in the hallway at work! Turns out we were colleagues, too-he worked upstairs in Research and Development. I'm telling you, I nearly _died_.'' Loki turned and watched as Darcy paused and took a sip of her wine before adding, ''It must have been fate. But he was such a gentleman about the whole thing, invited me out to dinner. And then the rest is history.''

''Whose history?'' Loki wondered as he stared at the flame, which seemed to be burning down, growing smaller and smaller.

* * *

Darcy suddenly found herself standing with Loki in front of a door, which swung open. ''Hey, guys!'' Jane cried, a huge smile on her face as she pulled them both into a hug. ''Thor,'' she called over her shoulder, ''your brother and Darcy are here!'' An excited-looking German Shepherd puppy came barrelling happily towards them. ''Garm, down, you know we don't jump on friends,'' Jane scolded, pulling him back. ''He's still learning,'' she said apologetically. ''Come on in.''

Darcy stepped through the doorway of what she now assumed to be the home that her friend shared with Thor. It was a very nicely decorated little house, with ornate wooden furniture and interesting sculptures displayed on the shelves. There was a drum set in the corner, as well as a bass guitar.

''Hey, there!'' came a familiar, booming voice as Thor strode into the room. He was dressed casually in cargo shorts and a t-shirt, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. His bright blue eyes shone cheerfully as he came over and scooped Darcy up in a tight hug before setting her down and then pulling Loki close, laughing and slapping him on the back.

Darcy watched the two of them, pangs in her heart as she observed how well they seemed to get along. No trace of animosity between them at all. Jane took Darcy's hand. ''Come on out back. There's some people I'd like you to meet.'' She led her through a very cozy-seeming kitchen and out the back door to a patio with wicker furniture. A stone path led down to an oval in-ground pool complete with a diving board, shaded by a cluster of trees. There were two other people already seated at the patio table, and Darcy recognized them instantly. ''Darce, this is Clint Barton and his wife, Tasha,'' Jane introduced them. ''Clint works with Thor, and Tasha is a martial arts instructor.''

Clint grinned and waved hello. Natasha reached over and shook Darcy's hand with a warm smile. ''Well, I also teach yoga,'' she added with a wink. ''Wonderful to meet you finally. I just have to gush a little and say that I absolutely _loved_ your last book!'' Her eyes shone as she stood and snatched a bottle of Corona out of the cooler sitting off to the side by the large propane grill. ''Hang on one second, honey,'' she told Darcy, then turned. ''Keys, baby?'' she called to Barton, who rolled his eyes and good-naturedly tossed her a ring of keys. The red-haired woman used the bottle opener on the keychain to pry open the top of her beer, then threw it back to him. Darcy stood rooted to the spot, utterly taken aback by how...happy everyone looked. How...calm and laid back and...and strangely _right._

Natasha took a sip and sighed happily. ''Ah, _much _better. This is how summer should be, isn't it?'' There was no trace of stress on her beautiful face, no sharp look of wariness constantly twitching in the corners of her eyes. The woman who Darcy had always known as a fierce assassin now wore a long, sarong-style wrap skirt and a bikini top, baring her midriff. Darcy noticed that a tiny, jewelled charm that looked like a martini glass dangled from a piercing in her navel. She looked back over at Clint, who leaned back and took a long sip of his beer, his sandal-bound feet propped up on the opposite chair. Then Darcy looked over to Jane, who happily rushed around playing hostess, seeming so much more content than she had ever remembered seeing her. _Everyone was safe._

''I wanted to ask you,'' continued Natasha, ''where on earth did you come up with that plot twist about Katrina's amnesia? That was brilliant!'' She waved her hand in the air. ''I mean, _serious_ curveball.''

''I don't really...uh...it just came to me,'' Darcy chuckled and gave a little, dismissive shrug.

''What a mind!'' sighed Natasha. ''I'm jealous. I have zilch in the way of creativity. I can't wait til next month when your new one comes out, I'm dying to find out what happens. And I _know_ you can't give anything away, but I really hope Katrina forgives Tom once she realizes that he lied to her.'' 'Tasha' took a sip of her beer and looked down at Darcy's hand. ''Oh and congratulations, Jane tells me that you and Loki just got engaged, that's fantastic!''

''Isn't it?'' said Loki, having appeared beside them. He handed Darcy a beer and then wrapped his arm around her waist. ''I couldn't let her get away.''

''So how did you two meet?'' asked Clint, pulling Natasha down onto his lap.

''Oh, you better brace yourselves for this one, it's hilarious!'' laughed Jane as she set a bowl of fruit salad down on the table.

''Why don't you tell them this time...sweetie,'' Darcy told Loki, playing along with this heartbreaking, lovely charade.

''Ok,'' he laughed. ''Well, I was at home one night trying to work—I had all these pieces to finish, I was burnt out—no creative juice left at all. So I take a walk around, try to stretch my legs. I go over to the window, and notice that right across the way there's a light on. So I figure, cool, someone _finally_ moved into that vacant apartment. And then I get a look at her...'' Darcy wasn't sure why, but something pulled her attention away. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a strange blue flickering over by the herb garden. Propped on the little stone wall, there sat a lone candle, the flame glowing a bright blue. Darcy got a sudden eerie feeling of urgency. It came as a reminder, a harsh reminder, not to get too comfortable here, no matter how much she might want to. No matter how real it felt, it wasn't.

_But it could be_, came a sudden creeping, whispering voice, as if carried on the summer breeze, as subtle and insidious as the scent of flowers. _It could be_. _Just let the flame burn all the way down. And then you can stay here forever._

* * *

Loki blinked and then they were standing by a window, apparently still at Thor and Jane's elegant home. Everyone seemed to be milling around in the other room, it was just him and Darcy now, looking out at the city lights. She looked absolutely delicious. That red lipstick on her mouth was going to be the death of him. So was the way the small black cocktail dress pushed up her perfect breasts and hugged the curves of her ass. So was that ring on her finger and that gorgeous, contented smile on her face and the thought that he could take his fiancee home and carry her into their bedroom and make love to her and they could both be safe and happy and _it was all going to kill him_ because it couldn't be real.

''I'll bet you anything it's gonna start snowing again,'' she predicated, sliding her arm through his. ''Having fun?'' All Loki could do was nod, because, horribly enough, it was true. He _was_ starting to like this illusion just a little _too_ much. Music played out of the stereo in the other room.

''Oh, I love this song. C'mon, you gotta dance with me.'' Darcy grinned and set down her glass of champagne before sliding into his arms and leaning her head against his chest. In the glass of the window, Loki could now see the reflection of that blue candle flame, burning ever lower. And he knew, it was time for him to leave. As he held Darcy, his hands shook. He had known that this was going to be hard. It was, after all, a test. He knew that it was going to seem real. But he couldn't have known how real, could never have predicted just how _much_ it was going to hurt, because she was _there_, in his arms, and everything was fucking beautiful and ordinary and _fine_.

_You know what can happen here_, came a taunting voice, slithering out of the corners of his mind. _Just let the flame burn down. That's all you have to do. And then you can stay here. And this can all be yours. _

''No,'' he told himself. ''It can't.'' But despite how far they had come, even though he knew it was a trick, a trap, this moment was more tempting than he ever could have imagined, and for just a single instant, he almost considered it. And that frightened him. They hadn't even made it to the second gate yet. He had to remember what was at stake. And yet when Loki thought about it, all he could see was her. Darcy, she was what mattered, above all else. But here she was, here in his arms, safe and sound. So why not..._why not_ just..._no._

Loki shook his head as the song ended. Darcy smiled up at him, then she looked over at the window. ''Hey, I was right, it's snowing!'' She looked so inviting. It felt like he was being stabbed.

''Darling, I have to step out for a minute,'' he told her. ''Ok,'' she said with a gentle nod. He leaned over and kissed her, a long kiss that made her heart beat faster and her skin flush, he could practically hear the blood rushing through her veins like music. Then he released her, her hand fell away from his. Before Darcy could say anything, Loki turned away and walked quickly out of the room.

* * *

**New York City**

''Really, Banner,'' Natasha began softly. ''Tell me what that scientist in Norway said. You've had a weird look in your eyes ever since you talked to her. Something's bothering you.'' The two Avengers sat on uncomfortable chairs in the medical lab, sipping at lukewarm cups of coffee and keeping weary watch over Barton, who was still sleeping under a cloud of heavy sedation.

Bruce sighed. ''Apparently Selvig's an incredibly superstitious guy who is now also incredibly insane. He filled a notebook with what seemed like gibberish—the same phrase over and over again in Old Norse—'_and he lies bound til the end_.' I looked it up, it's a line from the Poetic Edda, a sort of compilation of Norse myths.''

Nodding and tapping her fingers against the edge of her styrofoam cup, the Black Widow asked, ''So who's bound?''

''Loki, supposedly, at least in the story. See, apparently he's supposed to be tied up, chained—until Ragnarok. Or should I say, the _real_ Ragnarok.'' Bruce stretched out his arms, yawned.

''But Loki isn't bound. He's...here. Or at least he was until recently.''

''Exactly,'' Banner agreed. ''And she said that Selvig also kept babbling about a light and an eye. Which...he could have been referring to the myths again. Odin's eye ripped out in exchange for knowledge. And the light-my guess is that he was having flashbacks about the Tesseract. Or anything, really—his brain is swiss cheese at this point, Natasha. He's not going to make any sense.''

''Maybe that's what they want us to think,'' the redhead quietly said.

''_They_? What _they_, Natasha, there's no...'' Tiredly, Bruce waved his hand in the air, ''master villain behind all of this. It's just consequences, plain and simple. We've just been yanking on too many loose threads and now the whole thing's going to shit. There's no great meaning. And if we go looking for one, we're going to get distracted.''

They sat for a moment in silence before the Black Widow asked, ''All of our systems are still online, correct? And the backup power will hold for at least another several hours?''

''Give or take, yeah, but it's _very_ touch and go at this point.'' The scientist scrubbed at his face with the palm of his hand. ''Everything's going dark. Out there, and in here too.'' He stared thoughtfully at the window. ''_Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold,_'' he quoted. ''You know, I always liked that poem. Yeats could be so...artfully grim.'' Banner chuckled a little.

''He also wrote some great love poems, too,'' offered Natasha, now getting to her feet. ''I'll be back shortly.'' She nodded down at Barton. ''Let me know if his condition changes or if you hear from Stark.''

* * *

_Just let the flame burn all the way down. And then you can stay here forever. _''No,'' Darcy whispered. ''I can't. But I will say goodbye.'' She closed her eyes, not wanting to see anymore of the happy summer scene; she felt a tear spill down her cheek. When Darcy opened them she was back in the loft from before, in a bedroom. It was later at night, shadows and moonlight fell all around. She was in bed now, Loki lying beside her, shirtless and asleep. On a nightstand beside them, that dreadful blue-flamed candle burned down lower and lower, indicating that she didn't have much time left. Darcy slid out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake him, her heart feeling like a broken stone lodged jaggedly in her chest. ''Hey, love,'' came Loki's voice, thickened with sleep. His eyes fluttered open, foggy, lovely blue. ''Where you going?''

She didn't want to look at him, but she had to. She had to see exactly what she was giving up. It had to hurt. Oh, and it did. She wanted to jump back into bed with Loki, onto him, wanted to fuck her beautiful artist fiance and fall asleep in his arms. She wanted them both to be happy because goddamn it, didn't they deserve at least that much? But, _no._ Down, down, the blue flame burned.

''I'm just going to get a glass of water,'' she told him, bending down to press a soft kiss against his mouth. ''Go back to sleep.'' Loki smiled and his eyes fell closed again. With a burning, pained feeling like razor blades in her throat, Darcy turned and walked out the door.

* * *

Apparently because this illusion wasn't already painful enough, once Loki had left Thor and Jane's apartment and headed blindly down and back out onto the street, into the cold night air, Skuld's deceptively gentle voice came slicing through the quiet. Loki rubbed a hand over his face and tried desperately to compose himself. He couldn't let the bitch see that he had been crying. Couldn't let her know that she had gotten to him with her sick and evil mind games.

''Oh, now, now handsome, don't be like that,'' the Norn called after him, her heels clicking on the pavement. Then she tired of chasing him and simply materialised in front of his face, stopping the god in his tracks. ''It doesn't have to end, and you know it. Hey, I promise that once you two are safely tucked away, you can see this place again.'' Skuld waved her hand around. ''How about every other weekend, I give you both a nice little vacation from the venom, and you can have your own little mind time-share.'' She reached out and adjusted Loki's tie, adding. ''This is a pretty nice spot.''

Loki's hands trembled with rage, fists clenching as Skuld continued, ''Now would be as good a time as any to call a halt to this sad endeavour of yours. Darcy is ready to believe anything that you tell her. Because she loves you. So tell her. Tell her that it must be. What other choice do you have? Tell her the truth, Loki. That this was all...always about you wanting her. Tell her that this is _right_. It's where you both belong. Together. In a place where, at last, nothing will separate you.'' The Norn smiled, the movement of her lips danced in such a mocking imitation of kindness. ''Because, after all...isn't this a love story?''


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello my darlings! Thank you so much as always for all of the reviews and support, you have no idea how much it means to me! This story has really been taking me on a journey and testing me as a writer, and I'm glad that you could all come along for the ride!**

* * *

Skuld had now vanished, as did the street and the cold night air around him. Loki was once again in an empty passageway. Turning around, he saw that he was now on the other side of the stone arch.

''Darcy?'' he called, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Except for a shallow echo throughout the tunnels, there was no reply.

* * *

Darcy heard her name being called as she stood in the doorway of her illusion. It was Loki, her _real_ Loki, and she needed to get back to wherever he was. Frigga had warned them not to get separated. Darcy trembled a little, struggling with everything that was happening around her. He called her name again and she ran out the door, ran to him.

She moved as if through fog and rain and wind. Like crashing through an elemental barrier. And then she stumbled onto dark stone and marble, back into his arms. Her head spun and swam, the earth titled beneath her.

''Damn,'' said Darcy, falling against him.

''I'll say,'' Loki replied, dragging her close, kissing her forehead. She looked over at the archway. ''I guess we made it through the first gate.'' Casting a wary glance down the miles of corridor still ahead of them, she added, ''I don't even want to think about what the next one's gonna be like.''

Her eyes met Loki's for a long, quiet moment that held its breath. ''What did you see?'' she asked him. Though, before he could answer, Darcy continued, ''No, wait, that's the wrong question. Did you...want what you saw? Just for a second did you want to let the flame burn all the way down?'' She chewed nervously at her bottom lip.

''Yes,'' came his hushed reply.

''Why?'' she whispered, already knowing the answer, feeling it deep inside her like a cancer.

''Because you were there. And because we were _happy_.'' He seemed to choke on the word.

Tears slid down Darcy's face in burning rivulets. ''I know. But it wasn't really _us_, that's the problem.''

Loki didn't say anything at first. Then, in a low, pained voice he asked the question that had been clawing at him.''Do you think that we can be happy? Even if we succeed here, do you think that the world is going to give us the space that we need? Nobody is ever going to congratulate us. We won't be...well, let's just say they won't invite us to parties. I'll still be a monster, and you'll be seen as just as bad because you love me.''

''No!'' Darcy cried sharply. ''You don't know that for a fact. And we can't start thinking like that or we'll never make it out of here! Look at me!'' she grabbed his face in her hands as she choked the words out around a flood of tears. ''I don't care what they think. I never did. Nobody, do you hear me—_nobody_—tells me who I can and can't love. _I_ decide that. Listen, listen-'' She brushed the tears off of her face and tried to compose herself. ''You told me that when we make it out we could go anywhere. And we will—just like I imagined.'' She pressed her forehead against his. ''We're gonna go to some far and beautiful corner of the world, and we're gonna just...be together. But we can't do that if we're trapped. Please, trust me.''

''Alright,'' Loki quietly replied, nodding, though his eyes were still troubled and wary. Drawing in a deep breath, Darcy once again took him by the hand and pulled him along. That sensation of following a thread had returned to her, urging them both onward. As they did so, this new tunnel led to what seemed to be a large intersection of other connecting passageways.

Something was glowing blue-greenly up ahead, a light. ''That _can't_ be-'' began Darcy.

''No, it isn't. We're not even at the second gate yet. It's something else,'' came Loki's response.

Curious, the two moved closer now, could see where the light was coming from. It flooded out from a large, glowing, cylindrical chamber in the centre. Darcy could now see that there was a large object suspended inside of it. Or rather, a person.

''Oh my god,'' she whispered, staring in disbelief as her heart climbed into her throat. There held inside the illuminated chamber, as if encased in amber, was Jane. She appeared to be almost floating, and asleep. ''What the hell...''

''I thought it was a myth,'' breathed Loki, his eyes widening slightly. ''I'd heard talk, but I'd never actually seen...''

''What _is_ it? Why is she in there?'' Darcy's voice came in a weird gasp.

''Hoddmimis Holt. It's a fail safe. An ark, you might call it. According to legend, two people could survive Ragnarok inside of this chamber, then awaken to the new world.''

''Who put her there?'' Darcy asked, then added, ''Is she alright?''

''Thor, I would imagine. He's become alarmingly sentimental thanks to that woman. And even though this isn't Ragnarok, it's just as good as, and he'll still do anything to protect her from harm. Also, he would be one of the few Asgardians to even know of this place, or it's location.'' Loki put a hand on Darcy's shoulder. ''We have to keep moving. There's nothing we can do for her, the chamber is programmed to induce a state of suspended animation.''

Darcy couldn't help but look back over her shoulder as they continued on through the opposite tunnel, until the green light of the chamber was reduced to a faraway blur and then nothing at all.

Up ahead, there was a very large mirror hanging strangely in midair, and nothing else. Darcy started forward to get a better look. Then there came, out of the corner of her peripheral vision, a popping, shattering sound and a flash, as if a light bulb had burst. Momentarily disoriented by this, she lost her footing. The mirror spun like a revolving door, and she was abruptly knocked forward and away from Loki. Reaching out her hand, Darcy heard his voice calling her name, and then there was nothing.

She blinked and gripped at her swimming head as her eyes adjusted to light. At first Darcy thought she was alone, but then her ears were assaulted by the sound of wet, raspy breathing. Whirling around, her stomach churned in recognition at the sight of the ugly little man standing before her.

''I remember you.'' Darcy whispered. ''You came to see Odin. Who are you?''

''Someone very old, and very concerned with living a good deal longer, my pretty. Someone who remembers what it was like back when sacrifice meant something. You are all just a bunch of coddled brats.'' He sniffed in distaste, blinked his jaundiced eyes.

''So you work with the Norns?'' she asked, backing up a little, moving away reflexively from the awful being. Darcy recalled how he had attempted to violently invade her mind once before, knew that he wasn't someone to be underestimated.

The old man chuckled. ''Nobody works with them, princess, we work _for_ them. All of us. Even you. See, the integrity of the web needs to hold. And sometimes this means that we must cut certain threads or tie off others. It's simply for the best. And most of the time, nobody takes it personally, because most of the time, it isn't. People die every day, throughout all the words. Events happen, regardless of the way we feel about them, and it is simply an accepted fact. Oh, you all pretend at having some measure of control, but really, at heart, your kind is not quite as stupid as they seem. Deep down, you _do_ accept it, know it's for the best. But then again...'' he studied his jagged, yellow fingernails, clicked them against the dark stone wall. ''There are those rare occasions where it _is_ personal. Those times when so much hinges on a few key players—that's when we have to bring out the bigger guns. When we have to take extra precautions to make sure the plan works. When it gets _personal._ And you, and that whining, stomping bastard lover of yours always make everything so damn difficult.''

''What are you going to do?'' asked Darcy, trying to fight down the bile and panic that had begun to roll up from the pit of her stomach.

''Oh, I'm not going to _do_ anything, my lovely,'' the creature smiled around his horrendous mouthful of teeth. ''I'm simply going to watch the natural course play itself out. I've been waiting quite a long time to see this show.'' Then he disappeared.

* * *

They had been pulled apart again. This, Loki now understood, was a deliberate ploy to weaken them individually at each gate. And it was really beginning to piss him off. Every time Darcy was dragged away from him he felt a new raw pain slice into his skin.

Now, as before, the god stood in utter darkness until a small light appeared. This time it came from above his head, the weak stutter and flicker of electricity giving off its struggling hum until a light bulb illuminated and Loki found himself in front of what looked to be a window. Through the window, he could see Darcy standing there, blinking and looking confused. Clearly, she was unaware of his presence.

And Loki was not alone now on the other side of the window. Verdandi had appeared beside him, her ghostly eyes staring straight ahead.

''What is this?'' Loki asked her in a low and furious voice.

''Just watch,'' said Verdandi. She looked almost sad.

''If you hurt her I swear I will rip your throat out, you twisted sack of bones.''

A tired smile fluttered across the Norn's face and then died away.

''You have to watch,'' she repeated.

* * *

Almost as quickly as the man had vanished, another figure took his place. Now, standing directly in front of her, was a little boy. His face was suddenly, heartbreakingly familiar, though Darcy was sure she'd never seen him before. Something inexplicable yanked at her heart as she took in his delicate features, blue-green eyes and soft dark hair. He moved more closely into the light and Darcy could see that he was covered in blood. There were what looked to be...claw marks, terrible gashes, all along his face and body. She rested a hand forcefully over her pounding heart in an attempt to slow it. Then the child spoke.

''Mommy?'' he said, gazing up at Darcy imploringly. ''Mommy...something's happened...''

* * *

Loki felt a terrible chill along his spine. ''What the hell is going on?'' he demanded of Verdandi.

''She's meeting your son. So she can remember.''

''Remember what? Remember a life that was never hers? A prison neatly cloaked in myth? That-'' he jabbed a finger at the window, his eyes sparking with rage, ''is _not_ our son! Darcy isn't Sigyn! There _is no_ Sigyn, those are just stories!''

''And this is how they must begin,'' Verdandi responded.

* * *

Darcy closed her eyes. The worst panic attack she'd ever felt hadn't even come close to this. It was like being strangled by uncertainty. Blood pounded through her veins and her stomach heaved violently. Her limbs went cold and her skin felt sick and clammy ''It's a trick,'' she reassured herself. ''Like a dream. It's not really there.''

She opened her eyes to see the little boy still standing before her. ''Mommy,'' he begged again, in a small voice that felt like nails being driven into her heart, ''please help me. It's dark here.''

* * *

''Verdandi, you have to stop this. Stop it now.'' Loki tried to mask his terror, disguise the almost-pleading tone of his voice.

''I can't.''

The god smashed his fists against the glass, over and over again until he was weary, knowing the futility of his actions but not caring, either. Then he stood back with shaking hands and bloodied knuckles and closed his eyes, reaching out to Darcy's mind. ''_Don't look at him. He isn't real. Turn away. Turn away now._''

* * *

''I don't have a son,'' Darcy told the apparition, though she felt a strange tearing in her chest at the words. ''I'm not really the maternal type.'' Then she steadied herself and turned around, so that her back was to the child. ''Is this the best you can do, Skuld?'' she called out. Her voice shook, betraying her. Darcy drew in a deep breath and continued, ''You've been watching too many horror movies.''

''And you've been reading too many books, just not the right ones,'' came a reply. Darcy turned to see that, thankfully, the child had vanished and in his place there stood a Norn, but it was not Skuld, it was Urd, with her whisky-and-cigarettes voice and tangled white hair. She smiled sideways, a mean look. ''You should learn your own story a little better. Think back. You've never really felt as though you belonged anywhere. Not with your dead, schizophrenic mother and alcoholic father. Not in college. Not even with Erik and Jane, the closest thing you had to family.'' Urd moved forward a few steps in that tired way she had. ''I know that you love Loki. It's alright. He does have a certain...pathetic appeal. He's like a dangerous animal being kept as a pet, locked in a cage until it appears docile. But it's never docile. It only bides its time.''

''What the hell are you going on about?'' Darcy wearily demanded. She was almost perversely glad to see Urd. Skuld would even have been welcome. Anyone except that little boy. ''Clearly, living since the dawn of time has scrambled your brains a little.''

''Oh, my darling girl, its been more than a little. And there was no dawn. There was nothing but the void. And the _sounds_.'' Urd's eyes took on a sudden glassy, shifting look. It gave her a guise of unstable vulnerability. And then she righted herself and became malevolently beautiful once again. Once again, the universe spun in the palm of her hand. ''When you stripped your clothes off in front of that window, you were offering yourself up to him. And maybe you thought at first that you just wanted sex, but instead you found _religion_. And a deep sense of belonging at last, even as the cosmos falls to pieces around you like so much confetti.'' Urd laughed a little, moved closer still to Darcy. ''Have you ever asked yourself why? Why all of a sudden everything began to move so very quickly once you found him?'' She reached out and smoothed back Darcy's hair as she answered her own question. ''Because now, my sweet girl, you are finally home.'' The Norn blinked, her eyes now blazed onyx, as Mimir's had. ''Wakey, wakey, Sigyn.''

''My name is _Darcy_.''

Urd let out a bark of laughter. ''Darcy's just a dream that we put into your head. The minute you saw Loki, you started to wake up. You both have always been each other's greatest weakness. Isn't love such an interesting thing?''

* * *

The child apparition had vanished, and now a mist clouded over the room until Loki could no longer see Darcy.

''What's going on?'' Panic strangled the words, he turned and glared furiously at Verdandi.

''It's quiet time,'' she offered in a hushed, tired voice.

''What?''

''Quiet time.''

''You daft little ghoul,'' he hissed. ''Why can't I see her?''

Verdandi was silent now.

Loki put his forehead against the glass, tried to will his heart to calm, it was pounding out an erratic symphony of rage. But underneath the fury that threatened to rip him apart from the inside out there was a much more terrible layer of fear. ''_I just want to see you, to hear you. I want you to be able to hear me, please. You're not alone. I'm here_.'' He called to Darcy. The basest sentimentality. A prayer.

* * *

**New York City**

Stark had found Steve Rogers. The Captain was lying in the middle of an empty street in Brooklyn, snowflakes falling gently onto his prone body, collecting on the shining metal of his shield, which lay out beside him. Beneath half-closed lids, the soldier's eyes darted from side to side, as if he were dreaming. Every few moments, he mumbled something incoherent, then fell silent again.

''C'mon man,'' Tony said, now crouched beside him, holding Steve's head in his hands. ''Wake up. You're better than this.'' He shook the Captain by the shoulders, lightly slapped at his face. ''You're stronger, ok? You were _made_ to be stronger.''

* * *

''I was made to be stronger than this,'' Rogers suddenly found himself mumbling. Peggy looked at him sharply. ''What was that? Oh, poor Steve, you must be so tired. It's been a very long day. Why don't you just-''

''—Fondue.'' Steve said, though he was momentarily unsure of where the word had come from. He blinked, struck by the sudden sensation of something tugging at him, and very urgently. It was annoying. ''Wait. I'm remembering something. There was a man, he was...he was my...friend. He was an inventor. An inventor with dark eyes. He-''

''Oh, my darling, you're feverish. You don't know what you're saying. Let's get you-''

''The same, but...but it was in a different time. The name...I know the name...'' The Captain's head had now begun spinning again, faster and faster. He felt like he was on a ride at Coney Island, about to be sick after too much soda pop and hot dogs. ''It was...Stark. He could make me so _angry_, Peggy. I always wanted to punch his lights out, but it was more than that. I secretly loved the anger. He told me I wasn't special and I told him he was selfish. It was always electric, like we were dancing...on a wire. On a wire.'' Wildly and painfully, his head spun. ''I'd just...cut the wire. _Cut__ the wire_.''

Tony was about to rip his hair out in frustration when he heard Steve whisper something. ''Cut the wire,'' he thought he heard him say. ''What? Ok, what did you say?'' Stark leaned his head down lower. ''_Cut the wire_,'' came the soft and mumbled words again. And then Tony had an idea. An idea just terrible enough, perhaps, to work.

* * *

''No,'' said Peggy, and her face was suddenly menacing. ''Steve, you're sick. You need to come with me and get well.''

''Cut the wire,'' the Captain said again, almost as if he were begging, and then Peggy's face spun out of view and everything went violently dark.

* * *

''Alright, JARVIS.'' Tony desperately tried to choke down the adrenaline nausea that threatened to consume him.

''Sir, you know I have no way to calculate the odds of permanent damage at this point...''

''Doesn't matter. Charge me up,'' he commanded.

''Just like rebooting a computer,'' whispered Stark, the words choked out around a flood of anxiety. ''Hang on, buddy.''

He brought his hand to rest directly over Steve's heart. ''Fully charged, Sir.'' JARVIS said cooly.

A bolt of energy discharged from the iron suit and into Captain America's chest with a voltage that could have easily killed a normal person 10 times over. Tony prayed it would be enough to stop the soldier's heart. It was. There was utter silence for a moment. A few perilous moments passed. ''Sir—the Captain's vital signs have expired. It is clinical death.''

''I know his heart has stopped beating, JARVIS, what about his brain?''

''Sir, in a normal human individual, brain death begins to occur approximately six minutes after-''

''Count, JARVIS, and recharge.''

''Yes, sir,'' came the AI's polite monotone as Stark waited for what felt like an eternity.

''At fifty percent capacity and fifty-three seconds. Seventy-five percent capacity and one minute twenty seconds. Sir, we are at ninety-seven percent and counting down at ten, nine, eight, seven, six...ninety-nine percent...five, four, three, two...one hundred percent fully charged, sir.''

''Now,'' said Stark, and another bolt of energy deployed from his hand.

''Anything, JARVIS?''

''No heartbeat detected, sir. Charging again. _Clear_.''

''Shit!'' cried Tony. He sent another charge into the Captain, then grabbed the back of Steve's head, tilting his chin up slightly so that he could bring his lips down and perform mouth to mouth. Still nothing. His lips were cold. ''God damn it, JARVIS, again!''

''Sir, we are now at four minutes and forty-''

''I don't care! Again!'' Tony returned his hand to rest against Steve's heart, praying that he hadn't made a terrible miscalculation, praying that he hadn't just made the worst mistake of his life. ''Please,'' he whispered. The soldier's body jumped and twitched as the jolt passed through him. There was half a second of nothing, and then,

''Sir, I am detecting a heartbeat.''

Before Stark could blink or move, Steve gasped and coughed wildly as his eyes flew open. He blinked to steady himself. ''Tony?'' He looked around. ''What-why are we out here?''

''Cap—this is important. What's the last thing you remember?''

''I was meeting with the commissioner, and then...I was coming back to headquarters. I don't remember anything after that. It all kind of...faded out. Like I bumped my head and went to Oz or something.'' Then he got a look at Tony's face. The billionaire was somewhere between crying and laughing.

''What is it?''

''Nothing,'' Stark said, blinking. ''Ah. Ok. Alright,'' he put his arms around Steve and helped to pull him to his feet. ''C'mon, Dorothy, let's get you back to Kansas.''

* * *

''No...no...that...that can't be...'' Darcy closed her eyes. ''My name is Darcy Lewis,'' she recited aloud. ''I was born in Lansing, Michigan, on June 29th, 1989. My mother's maiden name was Shultz. The first time I got drunk was in the ninth grade, after a Death Cab For Cutie concert. My favourite book is _Breakfast of Champions._'' She could hear Urd still standing there, listening like a coiled snake. She kept her eyes tightly shut, recalled firmly all of these facts about herself, remembering each important event of her life and holding it in her mind. ''And just about a week ago, I met someone very interesting. And I love him.'' She opened her eyes now, and glared at Urd with a venomous look. ''I don't love him because I have to. I love him...because I _choose_ to.'' She drew her arms almost protectively around herself, felt a shifting of material and realized that the invisible cloak Frigga had given her was still wrapped around her shoulders. For some reason, this comforted her greatly, and so she added, ''But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Urd?''

The Norn gave Darcy a cold, cruel look in response, her mouth stretching into a lopsided sneer. Yet, she looked almost vulnerable once again.

''You don't understand love, or choice. Isn't that sad?''

''It's sad for you because you possess the capacity for neither, it is all _an illusion that we created_,'' Urd hissed maniacally, her eyes darting like a downed power line.

''Oh, is that what you think?'' said Darcy, bolstered by an inexplicable yet incredibly welcome wave of confidence. ''Or is that just what you wish was true because nobody ever gave _you_ a choice? Is that what you believe...because nobody will _ever _love you?''

''I don't _need...love_,'' the Norn said through gritted teeth. Her eyes flamed, her long fingernails pressed into the palms of her thin, bony hands. ''I own the entirety of the past. Since the first dreaming creature drew its first gasping breath, I have been here, and I _remember. _I have long accounted for your sins. We...make things right. We return you to your natural state...make certain that you know your place. We remind you...to live and then to_ die..._you _dare...you dare to tell me..._''

Urd advanced on her, reaching for Darcy, an unhinged and wild look in her eyes. So Darcy did the simplest thing. She screamed.

As she did so, however, a curious thing happened. Urd suddenly buckled, bending forward and clutching her head as if in pain. She doubled over, and the illusion around Darcy began to crack. She could now hear Loki's voice in her mind again, could hear him calling for her. The mirror, the one she had been tipped through before, suddenly reappeared out of the ether. While Urd was still mercifully disoriented, Darcy bolted forward as fast as she could.

Just as the Norn came to her senses and reared back up, shrieking ''No!'' Darcy threw herself against the glass and it once again spun her away into darkness.


End file.
